Autumn Leaves
by calla lilly rose
Summary: Crisp air, falling temperatures - the summer is over. The Curtis brothers face a new set of challenges, and each will be forced to confront a pain they haven't felt in nearly two years.
1. Missing Person

All rights to characters belong to SE Hinton.

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 1

**Missing Person**

XXX

"Curtis? Hey, you okay?"

Hell no, I wasn't okay. My back and side were kicking my ass. Boss was riding me to get the roof done before the weekend when a pretty bad storm was due to roll in, but with the lazy crew he gave me to do the job, I may as well have been up here alone. The only guy out here besides me worth a damn was Ted; and he was as busy as I was but on the other side of the roof. I wiped the sweat off my face and kept pounding the nails in, knowing each nail was one shingle closer to being done.

"Fine, just fine," I mumbled loud enough for the crew chief to hear. Last thing I needed was him thinking I wasn't able to finish. I needed this check, this one and every check after it. One thing was certain, this living paycheck- to- paycheck load -of- shit wasn't getting me anywhere. Not that I had much of a choice, not with Ponyboy and Sodapop still needing me. Sure, Pony was fifteen now and Soda was less than two months away from being eighteen, but they were both still my responsibility.

Two more hours of backbreaking work later, with the roof all but completed, the foreman called it a day.

"Looks like this should be finished tomorrow, what do you think?" Ted asked as we stood on the roof looking around. The other lazy bastards had already headed down the ladder and were scattering like roaches in the daylight.

"Yeah. Hell, we probably could finish it _now_ if I had the time; now that the laziest people to ever get on a roof have left. My own kid brothers would have been better help than those guys."

"You got _that_ right. The short guy that was with me nearly nailed his own hand to the roof. Idiot. Boss wants cheap labor, but what he should get is skilled labor. However," Ted said, stretching his tired back then turning for the ladder, "I don't do the hiring. I just show up and pound nails all day. I must admit it, though, anytime I show up at a work site and see you around, I know the works gonna be good. Pleasure working with ya, Curtis, as always. See ya in the morning." He clapped my tired back and headed down.

"Yeah, right. Bye Ted." I made it down the ladder and headed for my truck. Soda was off today; I hoped he was home and had made something normal for dinner. I was too tired to play twenty questions with what he was serving. I planned to take a shower before dinner, then beg if necessary for a back-rub.

Glancing at the clock, it was nearly five. Wednesday. Track practice. Even though the season was still a while off, Ponyboy's coach liked to get the team together for a few laps a few times a week; keep everyone in shape over the long winter months before the season officially started. Until January, Pony's schedule would have him coming home late every Wednesday and Friday.

"As long as you keep your grades up, I don't care." I had told him, and he's kept his end of the bargain. If nothing else, he was smart. Scholastically smart. Didn't use his head a lot - like he saw nothing wrong with taking a shortcut through the alley behind the liquor store on rare days when someone in the gang couldn't pick him up after practice. It scares me to pieces knowing how many hoods tougher than him have gotten knifed for as little as a dollar in that same alley. For all my ranting and raving, it just goes in one ear and back out the other.

Just as I always did, I slowed for a look down that alley as I passed it, then headed home. It was empty. No one was getting knifed, raped or mugged in it right then. As I tapped the gas to speed up, I wondered if he'd made it home yet.

The stereo was on along with the television when I pulled up. Grabbing my tools and my thermos, I headed inside.

"The girls got _jugs_, man, _jugs_! I'm telling ya, you _gotta_ see them to believe them. Just meet her, that's all I'm saying! Oh, hey Darry."

"Two-Bit, she's stuffing if you think any set of hooters that big are real." Soda laughed from the kitchen.

"He's obviously not had his hands on her." Steve's voice was in agreement. I only wondered how far into this conversation had they all gone.

"You bringing your fantasies to life again, Two-Bit?" I asked, looking around. His shoes weren't in the corner, his jacket not halfway hanging off the couch. Ominous signs of a missing brother. "Hey, is Ponyboy here?" I asked, warily looking in the kitchen at the merry band of misfits.

"Not yet. Should be home soon. Practice probably ran late." Soda said unconcerned, stirring some strange looking stuff in a pot.

"That or he's got his head in the clouds again, walking and daydreaming at the same time." Steve snipped. "He'll never learn."

I ignored Steve's comments, knowing this feud they'd had would continue no matter what I said. "Soda, I'm gonna go take a shower. Listen out for Pony, make sure he goes and starts his homework when he gets in."

"Roger Doger that, boss." Soda saluted with an unconcerned smile. I rolled my eyes and headed for the peace and solitude of the bathroom. There was no _quiet,_ per se. Not in this house. At least not until I made them turn off the TV and radio.

The water surged through the pipes, streaming onto my sunburned, tired skin. I lathered up, grateful to get the tar and grit off my face, neck and arms. For a few minutes, I let the steam and scalding water beat onto my back, easing the aches some. When I couldn't stall any longer, I turned the faucets off, allowing a cacophony of noise to penetrate the walls around me. Elvis was mixing with the evening news – obviously left on by mistake seeing as how Ponyboy and I were the only two in this house who had even the remotest interest in national events. Elvis was winning the war of the noise, but not by much. Wearing only a towel, I crossed the living room and shut the TV off.

"Not your normal attire, Muscles, but it works," drolled Two-Bit from the kitchen where he leaned against a counter holding a half eaten sandwich. He was in my direct line of sight, other heads popped over for a glance at me as I stood practically naked in my living room, dripping on my floor.

"Is Pony home yet?" I grumbled over the radio, fully expecting some "yes" answers to float my way. How he was getting any homework done over this bedlam was a mystery.

However, he_ wasn't _home. The blank looks of the guys in the kitchen staring at each other told me so. I looked at the clock, 6:12. "Don't you think he should have made it home by now?" I asked harshly. Obviously they hadn't noticed the time, so busy stuffing their mouths. I headed to my room to throw on some clothes then came back, tugging on my shoes and snapping off the radio.

"You want me to go out, Darry?" Soda asked, the table already set for dinner.

"No, I'll go. I'm gonna swing by the school and backtrack home. He can't be far. Go ahead and eat if he gets home before I get back." I picked up my keys and wallet and was out the door before anyone could offer anything else.

I headed down the roads I knew Pony would more than likely take to come home on, but the further I went, the more apprehensive I got. Track practice never let out this late. Coach always let the kids go by five. If they stayed later, we always got a call letting us know. It only took thirty minutes to walk it, unless he stopped by the local public library. I pulled in, hoping maybe he was absorbed in a book. I could handle that kind of stress. I wouldn't _like_ it, but I could _handle_ it. It was _not_ knowing where he'd disappeared to and not finding him right away that gave me heartburn.

"Hey Martha." I said to the librarian. She kept an eye out for Pony for me when he was here, but he didn't know that. "I'm looking for my wayward brother again. He here?"

She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye, but was shaking her head. "Nope, sorry Darrel. Haven't seen Ponyboy in a week or so. Anything I can do?"

"Just have him call home for one of us to come get him if he shows up. I don't want him out walking the streets this late at night. I'd better go. Thanks."

"I'll tell him. Good luck!"

I drove off towards the school, hoping against hope he was still there. Maybe he'd found some cheerleader to flirt with. That would be a plausible reason why he'd be late coming home. Not that I wouldn't give him hell and high water for it, but at least it would make sense. After his reaction to leaving Hollis, Mrs. Nixon and that viper Linda, it wouldn't surprise me if his hormones had kicked in and saw nearly every skirt in town with his new, opened, hormonally driven eyes.

God help me.

The parking lot was empty, the building doors locked. Even the outdoor track lights were off. He wasn't here.

"Where are you, Ponyboy?" I mumbled, worry starting to pit in my stomach. I walked around to the rear of the building by the gym doors, knowing the kids used those doors as they were closer to the field than the main entrances, but they were locked, too.

"Ponyboy!" I yelled, waited and listened, but no answer came back. I got back in the truck, flipped on the high beams and drove slowly back towards our house, then changed my mind at the last second and made a u-turn the intersection, heading to the park instead of going straight home. It was the last place I knew to check. It had been nearly a year since that most miserable night of my life - the night I'd hit him, forever changing how he looked at me, how everyone looked at me, and how I looked at myself. He very rarely came here anymore; none of us did.

"Please be here, come on kid … where are you?"

As I circled the park, I saw in the shadows two kids, teenagers by their size and builds, engaged in what teenagers do in dark deserted parks when their parents or guardians aren't around. Hormones! I'd skin him tonight, then set him down for a stern talking-to tomorrow.

I pulled up, putting the high beams right on him, yelling his name at the same time.

"_Ponyboy_!"

However, the kids that turned to face me, trying to see around the flood of light that was now blinding them, weren't anyone I knew. I'd realized it before they turned to face me, but by the time it registered in my brain, Pony's name had already escaped my lips. The guy had darker hair, the girl had her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She was trying to close her blouse with one hand, while the guy she was with was bulking himself up like he could take me. I chuckled at that prospect. He had to be around fourteen and wasn't anywhere as built as Pony. I could knock this kid into next week without blinking.

"Sorry. You kids better get to your own homes." I said as I started to back up.

"And who the hell are you?" The pipsqueak asked, stepping towards me. Obviously, he still couldn't see me. I sighed as I got out, knowing this wasn't going to take long.

I got in front of my truck, letting the high beams embellish my 6 foot plus frame and tired, bulky biceps. This kid was not going to hurt me.

"Kid, if you want me to be your worst nightmare, I can be that. However, I suggest you take your lady to her home, then high tail it to your own. This _ain't_ your night, trust me. Now beat it."

"Bobby, let's go."

At least the girl had sense. The kid backed off and together they headed back across the park.

Wearily I walked over to the fountain, reached down and let my fingers trail in the water. It was cold, but nowhere near as cold as it was a year ago. Last year, ice had formed in an extremely rare early frost. Pony'd had no coat - not even a shirt with sleeves. I had been at the hearing and had read the transcripts of what had happened; how Pony and Johnny stood here as five kids – his attackers practically grown men themselves – beat Johnny and held Ponyboy under the water.

Countless nights of sleep have been lost as I wondered what horrors he had to have felt - his arms pinned, his legs restrained as one of them forced his head down and together they all held him below the surface. What had he thought? What had he screamed? I knew he had to have screamed_ something _… he wouldn't go down with out a fight. He was smaller than the rest of us but he was tough, a very good fighter for his size. Soda and me had taught him to fight, and we both knew he was good. He had to have fought hard, but one small kid against five drunk juniors and seniors didn't even give him a chance.

Had he cried? Had he begged? I didn't know. None of us did. That part wasn't brought out at the hearing, nor did he mention it in the essay he wrote on the subject. The secrets died with Johnny. Even to this day, Ponyboy won't talk about it. Not even to Soda.

Standing up, I wiped the fountain water off on my jeans and looked around. _Where __**was**__ he? __Damn it_! I headed back to the truck and gunned the engine to go home. I'd looked everywhere I knew to look, if he wasn't home I'd send the guys out and hit the phones just like I did last year. And if he wasn't home by curfew, I was going to call the police … again.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	2. My Cup Runneth Over

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 2

**My Cup Runneth Over**

XXX

"Is he home yet?" I asked before I even got all the way inside.

Three faces turned to mine then in unison turned down the hallway. Ponyboy came out from the shadows holding one of his school books in one hand with a pencil halted mid-twirl in the other. Atop his head sat his glasses, tiny indentions on either side of his nose indicating he'd been using them. Relief flooded my system, but it came out as anger.

"I've been out hunting for you, didn't we tell you to come straight home after school? Where've you been?"

From my peripheral vision, I saw Soda drop his head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. Steve and Two-Bit gave each other glances as well. I did my best to tone it down, letting go of the doorknob and heading to the kitchen to get something to drink to cool off.

"I..." He started then stopped. "I'm s_orry_ Darry, I had practice... remember?" I couldn't help notice he'd instantly paled some, and stayed well out of my swinging range. Over the last year, I've also noticed he never allows himself to be cornered. There was always a door or hallway behind him. Instinct had taught him that - if you can't fight the danger, then run from it. "Then I had to go to the dime store to get some index cards and markers for a history report due Friday. I missed the bus, so I had to walk back. I went to the DX hoping to catch a ride with Soda or Steve, but forgot they were both off today. I, uh, I didn't mean to worry you. I'm really am sorry."

I took a smoldering breath and leaned against the counter. Index cards and markers. A report. I was going out of my mind with worry, conjuring up bloody visions of the past while all he was doing was his schoolwork.

"That's fine. Just give us a call next time you're going to be late. Have you had dinner yet?"

"Yeah," came his soft voice as he took a step back from me.

Soda's head popped up and looked at him, his eyes narrowed. From experience dealing with both my brothers, I knew Soda's reaction was a sign that Pony was lying to me. I let it go.

"Have you finished your homework?"

"Not yet."

I got a plate from the cabinet. "Then go finish." I made my voice as normal as I could, wishing for all the world he would stop being so scared of me. He backed up a step before turning to go into his room – yet another tactic of self defense, then softly closed the door behind him.

I made a plate for Pony and covered it in foil, placing it in the oven in case he got hungry later. Then I made myself a plate and sat down to eat. The guys - figuring this was a great time to jet out of here, did just that. A smattering of "See ya, Soda's," and "Bye, Darry's" came our way as they left. Soda finally got up from the couch and sat down by me in his seat at the table.

"He showed up about ten minutes or so after you left. He's _fine,_ Darry. Why are you so upset?"

"He should have called before going to the store. He needs to be more responsible."

Soda sat back, fiddling with a napkin. "I'll talk to him about it."

I finished eating and took my plate to the kitchen. Grabbing a fork and the plate from the oven, I headed to Pony's door.

"Don't worry about it. _I'll _talk to him." The look Soda gave me was one of frightened disbelief, but I was _not_ going to go through the rest of Ponyboy's adolescence with him thinking I was the bad guy. I _cared_, damn it. Hadn't last summer taught him that? I knocked on the closed door with three soft wraps.

"Pony? Can I come in?"

"Yeah, sure Dar. Whatever..."

I came in and looked at him. He was sitting on his bed, three textbooks open and sprawled out in front of him with one notebook balanced on his knee and another tossed over and above the books. Almost like a game of solitaire. Near the foot of the bed lay a jumbled pile of index cards with his scrawl written all over them, various shades of red, yellow and green highlighting certain words and phrases on different cards. I didn't question his methods of study, he had the grades to show his way worked for him, but I never could figure it out.

"You really need a desk, huh?" I said more than asked, putting the plate down on his dresser and pulling a chair over. "How was practice?"

"Good." He nodded while pushing the thin glasses back onto the top of his head. "Coach had us run the relay first, then sprints."

In a jumble on the floor by his closet lay his sweaty PE gear. A worn cleat stuck out from the mix. "Your shoes still okay or do you need new ones?"

He followed my gaze. "No, they're fine. I might need some new ones later, around the holidays maybe, before the new season. But for now, my old one's will be fine."

"How're your classes this year?"

"Busy. I sort of have a test on Friday," he was tapping one of the books, "I kinda need to study some more before I'm ready. Did you, uh, did you _want_ something, Dar?" I knew that as a sign that I was keeping him from studying, but so far all I was doing was hedging around. I didn't want to leave yet, I still felt like we needed to talk some. But, in the interest of his grades, I was going to have to cut this short.

"I didn't mean to yell. Just … just call if you're going to be late."

"I will." He nodded his head slightly.

"And eat your dinner. I don't care if you eat in here tonight, seeing as how you have a lot of work to do, but you need to get something down your gullet. Bring your plate back to the kitchen when you're done. I'll go now, so you can study." I got up and headed for the door. "How, um. How are you doing in here - alone now? I doubt Soda would mind if...."

"I'm fine, Darry. No problems. Really."

"Fine, good. Okay then. I'll, um, I'll leave you to your homework." I closed the door behind me, hearing the bed creak as he also got up. Maybe he was getting a bite of his dinner, maybe he was shoving his dirty clothes in his basket. I didn't know. But at least he was home. At least he was safe. Tonight, anyway.

XXX

Steve had asked me if I wanted to go out for a bit, escape the monotony of my own little world, but I had declined.

"Awe, c'mon. Two-Bit said that busty chick would be there. That's got to be worth getting out of here for a while. I'll bring you right back...."

"Naw man, go on without me. Tell me tomorrow if she's real or not. I sort of need to hang here for a bit, you know..." I turned my head some and pointed with my eyes at Darry's shadow moving around the living room.

"I thought he and the kid were cool? He still blowing a gasket?"

I shook my head. "Naw. But something's still not right. I just want to hang out here. Leave Saturday open, though. The drag strip opens up this weekend, I thought we could go catch the show."

"If Evie ain't got nothing planned, sure, I'll go."

Evie, I'd forgotten Steve's girl might have his weekend tied up. I scrunched my face, remembering my old weekends, holding Sandy in my arms. She'd been gone a year almost, which meant the anniversary of that night was nearly here too.

"Hello? Sodapop? What the blazes are you thinking, man? I thought I'd lost you there for a second."

I grinned, leaving the memories alone for a while. "Nope, still here. If you're busy with your girl, fine. If you ain't and you want to go to the strip, let me know. Just tell me one way or the other by Friday so I can make plans. I'd better get inside. See ya tomorrow."

"Without a doubt. Night."

I headed inside, just in time to watch Darry turn off the evening news.

"Anything noteworthy going on in the world?"

"Just more of us getting killed over there. Insane war. Pointless waste of human life."

Darry was not a fan of the conflicts going on over in South East Asia. No one was, but it bugged Darry bad. I wasn't feeling too good about it either, knowing my eighteenth birthday was coming up.

I dried the dishes and started putting them away, midway through I heard the strumming of guitar notes coming through the walls. Darry stopped too, the both of us listening in silence to Pony playing some melody in his room.

"He ain't bad. Needs practice, but not bad." I quipped.

"That kid has a million talents, but not a lick of sense."

Obviously, Darry wasn't over Pony's late arrival home this afternoon.

"Where did you go to look for him? You got something still bugging you, so out with it. What did you see that's got you so ticked off?"

He looked at me, trying to hide his frustration.

"Everywhere. The school, the library. Then I went by the park. Saw some kids that at first looked like him, but wasn't. Just some young kids out trying to push their hormones and grow up too fast."

"That's what's got you bothered? A coupla kids making out? Jeeze Darry, I never pictured you being so square before." He looked at me with contempt now. I laughed. "Besides, wasn't it _you _with Penny Monroe out behind the bleachers when you were sixteen?" He hit me hard in the middle of my chest, enough to know he'd do more if I didn't shut it. I rubbed the spot, but smiled just the same. "C'mon, Dar, it wasn't Pony, so what's the issue?"

He balled up his hand towel and tossed it in the corner, then went to the couch to lay back on, one arm draped over his eyes to block out the light, one foot propped up on an armrest, the other bent to the floor. I followed and sat in the recliner, watching and waiting.

"The fountain caught my eye. It was still going, bubbling along as if nothing had ever happened there. It's almost been a year, remember?"

Great, just what I needed. A second reminder of the worst night in our lives, apart from losing our parents. Maybe even worse than that. Mom and Dad's death was a tragic accident, but kids are always the ones nature intends to have bury the parents. Ours just died too soon. We needed another twenty or thirty years with them, at least. Especially Ponyboy. But, if I … if _we_ had to bury _Ponyboy_, I don't think I could go on living. It made Dally's suicide mission that night more understandable, not that I forgave him for it. He _knew _Ponyboy was with us, and still allowed himself to be gunned down right in front of him. For all the wrong things Dally ever did in his life, that's the only one I still curse him for.

"Yeah, I remember." I leaned back in the chair, images of that week flitting through my head.

The music continued softly through the walls, as my head got stuck in memory mode. Judging by Darry's expression, he was there too.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	3. Coaches Offer

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter Three

**Coaches Offer**

XXX

"Okay, guys, hustle up. I want everyone to practice their free throws and jump shots. Run in a figure eight pattern, and keep those balls moving. Go."

Coach blew his whistle and we all started hustling. Basketball practice was a good workout, usually leaving me drenched with sweat. All you could hear was the squeak of shoes on the hardwood and the loud echoing bounce of a dozen basketballs on the floor at the same time. Coach sat on the top of the bleachers, watching us running back and forth, taking notes in his notebook. Finally the whistle blew and class was over. It was also the end of my school day.

We all headed to the locker rooms. While most of the guys went to shower, I pulled my sweat suit on over my gym clothes to walk home in, sweat and all. I'd shower at home. I hated the shower stalls in the locker room. There were a few others who did the same, but most of the guys didn't think twice about it. But then, they were older than me and Soc's too. No grease would get caught in the showers alone and naked, surrounded by Soc's with a penchant for brutality.

As if that weren't enough, the anniversary of Bob's death loomed on the calender. Already I had accidentally "fallen" in the middle of a crowded hallway, "crashed" into my locker, and "stumbled" going up the stairs this week. My knees and shins were getting bruised, and my hands roughed up from blocking all the falls I was taking, but they never would take me one on one. By the time I turned to see my attacker, they had blended into the background of people snickering at me, and it never seemed to be the same person twice. Teachers just thought I was my usual clumsy self, but they didn't see the string of Madras shirted, well- to- do's that had "helped" me into those situations in the first place. Earlier in the week, my locker even had a note left in it, deposited there by someone shoving it up the vents.

_We haven't forgotten, grease. _

Yeah, well, neither had I.

"Ponyboy!"

I turned, looking for the person calling me. Coach was motioning for me to come over as he made his way down the bleachers.

"Yeah, coach?"

"Lets you and I go to my office for a chat, shall we?"

Once in his office, he shut the door and sat at his desk, motioning for me to sit in the chair in front of him.

"You have a pretty good jump shot. And you handle the ball really well. Ever thought of going out for basketball?"

I looked at him as if he was stupid. "I run track, sir."

He smiled. "Yes, I know you run track." He looked at the montage of yellowing newspaper clippings hanging on the corkboard behind his desk. My name was mentioned in over half the articles. "But would you be interested in trying out for the basketball team as well? Grover Hayes graduated last spring, and we really could use some fresh talent, especially in the point guard position. I've been watching you. Track has given you the quickness and endurance, and you've bulked up over the summer. The position would be perfect for you. Would you like to at least try out for the team?"

I thought about it. It would be something new to do, but that would mean Darry would have to shell out more money for uniforms and shoes. Away games would wreak havoc on my schoolwork. "I dunno, sir. I'd have to talk it over with Darry."

He understood. I'd been on the track team long enough for him to know nothing was approved until Darry gave the go-ahead.

"Fine. Try-outs aren't for another month, so you have plenty of time. You wouldn't need another physical either, the one you handed in would cover it. Tell Darrel hello for me." He walked over to open the door and I followed him out to the hallway.

"Thanks, coach. I'll think about it."

The campus was nearly deserted, just a few stragglers like myself and some teachers left walking the halls. The air had a crispness to it, the leaves on the nearby trees already changing some. I started the walk home, thinking about it. I _would_ like to at least try out, that much wouldn't cost anything. It would almost be fun to see how I matched up to the others on the team. But the uniforms weren't cheap, and my toes were already cramped enough in last years track shoes.

An engine being revved behind me suddenly stood my hair on end. I didn't have my blade, either. I'd remembered to get it out from under the mattress at Mrs. Nixon's before I'd left, but lately I'd gone to leaving it at home. I looked around for a pop bottle and found one, snatching it up before whirling around to see who was following me.

The startled look of Steve Randle sitting behind the steering wheel of his car not twenty feet behind me surprised me. He pulled up along side me, and his eyes went from my face to the bottle still in my hand, ready to bash it over someone's head.

"Kid, if you're gonna be _that_ way about it, you can just keep on walking."

"Hey Steve," I said, tossing the bottle into a nearby grassy clump so it wouldn't break. "You re-tune your car? I didn't recognize the engine."

"Yeah," he said, gunning it for emphasis. "Cleaned up the transmission, unclogged the fuel injectors. You want a ride or not?"

"Sure." I took shotgun and he headed the car home.

"What's got you so jumpy?"

"Just the usual crap I get." I answered evasively, not meeting his eyes.

"The soc's on your case again?"

"Nothing I can't take. It's fine."

His hand snaked over to hook my arm. "Look, kid. I ain't in your classes, but I hear the rumors just the same. You_ are_ watching your back, ain't ya?"

"I didn't grab the pop-bottle for nothing, Steve."

He let me go, but had a scathing look on his face.

"You be careful, kid."

He pulled up in front of my house and I got out.

"I am. Thanks for the ride."

He left and I went on inside, pulling out some hamburger to thaw before starting on my homework.

XXX

"Thanks now. You folks have a good day!" I said to the middle aged couple driving away, a fresh fill-up in their tank. As I rang the register then shut the drawer, I noticed Steve still under the Plymouth, muttering to himself as he worked on the engine.

"What's got you all fired up?" I asked, coming over to see if I could help.

Instant silence from under the car. Then the clicking sounds of the wrench started up again.

"You may as well know now, seeing as how it's going to get back to you eventually. The soc's are messing with your brother again."

I ducked down to see him under the car.

"They're _what_?"

"Yeah, messing with him. I ain't seen nothing, so far it's just talk drifting around the halls. But that kid Johnny knifed had friends who ain't letting up. I heard some Soc's having a laugh when the kid's name was mentioned in their own little circle today. Something's on the horizon."

"Shit. Hey, how'd you hear this?"

He chuckled and gave a one sided smile. "Was in the principal's office. Got busted for trying to add ipecac to the teachers coffee in their break room."

I grinned, remembering some of the stunts we'd pulled before I'd quit. I missed those days. "And how'd that go?"

"Great, until Mrs. Paulding walked in and caught me. I'd already added the stuff and was putting the lid back on. Told her I was thirsty and needed a cup of joe. She didn't buy it and escorted me to the office where she left me with the secretary. The Soc's were outside on the steps, on the other side of the opened window. I couldn't hear them well enough, but I got the jest of their conversation."

"What happened in the office; you suspended or what?"

He laughed. "Nope. By the time the principal came out, Paulding had left, the secretary had forgotten why I was there, and the principal told me to get out of his office."

"Don't tell Two-Bit. He'd only try it again tomorrow. That sounds like one of his stunts."

"Yeah, well, he ain't the only one to try new things." He put the wrench down and rolled out from under the car. "That's finished." He turned from the car to me. "But they _have_ been messing with him. Pony's getting defensive, and as much as I'd like to say 'bout time,' that ain't like him."

I looked at him, expecting more.

"I waited for him after school, but he didn't show in the parking lot. Finally I saw him leaving the gym hoofing it. As I pulled up behind him, he grabbed a bottle, ready to either pop me one or take out my windshield. I can count the times he's done that on two fingers – that time right after the hearing last year, and today. Nope, they've been on his case. And you know with his history, it's only going to get worse before it gets better."

I sighed, shaking my head. "He always manages to find himself in the middle of messes like this, don't he? Just cause he managed to be the lone survivor, they'll blame him for it forever." Sigh. "Fine. I'll pass the word to Darry. We'll figure out something. Thanks, Steve."

"No problem, buddy. Hey, what are the odds the kid manages to go a whole year without being admitted to a hospital?"

"A hundred to one at this point."

Steve laughed, but we both knew it really wasn't a joking matter. Half the nursing staff on the third floor already knew Ponyboy as if he was one of their favorites, and the folks in registration don't even bother asking us for information anymore, just simplifying it as - "any changes since last time?"

The bell rang outside as a customer pulled in so I got up. "Well, back to work," I sighed, wondering what we were going to be facing this time around from the Social Elites.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	4. Reverberations

A/N - I'm bored, so here's another chapter. And no... I didn't just write this. I have 11 chapters done already... but am doling them out a little at a time. Thanks to all who have reviewed. I really do appreciate it. Calla.

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter Four

**Reverberations**

XXX

My homework was done, laying in a pile on my bed. Books in one stack, notebook in the other. I'd been in my room all afternoon, coming out for only a moment just to give Darry my history report to proof. He'd already called me back to give me his opinion on it and to hand it over, saying he'd liked it.

"It's good, Ponyboy. The subject was interesting, the report filled with facts and laid out in an interesting manner, the flow of the report was catchy and best of all, the spelling was correct. You're a great writer, but you already knew that. I'm sure your teacher should like it."

"Thanks."

I'd put it in one of those clear report folders and had it safely tucked in my bag so I wouldn't forget it. From that point until now, I'd been sitting by my window looking out into the backyard like an unwanted puppy at the SPCA – the doomsday clock ticking the seconds away.

"Pony!" Darry's voice was both heard and felt coming through the walls. No one saw me, but I'd jerked anyway. "Come eat."

I got up, wiping my hands on my jeans before reaching the doorknob. I didn't really understand why I was still so jumpy, I was safe in my own house, after all. Still, sweat rolled down my back and my hands were slick. I wasn't even sure I was going to keep anything down, but I had to try before Darry clued in that something was up.

"So what's happening at school?"

I dropped my fork, it making a noisy clink as it fell to the floor as my head whipped around, wondering how he knew.

I'd gone to the john between classes, was minding my own business in a closed stall trying to hurry so I wouldn't be late for Social Studies, when I'd heard the bathroom door open. I heard the kid at the urinal suddenly yelp "hey!" then everything got quiet. Eerily quiet. Lets just say, I finished doing what I was doing in record time. Another second later, four pairs of feet were around my stall, the shoes nicer than any a greaser would wear. Then softly, someone was calling my name, and it wasn't a voice owned by anyone I knew. Or _thought_ I knew. But they obviously knew me.

"Po-ny-boy! Remember us?" Came someone on one side of me. "We haven't forgotten!" Muttered someone opposite him. When he was done, another voice, deeper than the first two took over. "Come out, you little shit." And yet a forth, this one harsher, more menacing, sounded. "You're going to join your crispy little friend and the other douche-bag greaser shot full of holes soon." Then the first voice spoke again "They had it easy, compared to what we're going to do to you."

As soon as the last word rolled off his tongue, a terrifying frenzy began. All of them began beating on the stall walls around me. The echo of the clamor reverberated around the stall as if I were in the inside of a drum. I shut my eyes and clamped my hands over my ears, trying to block out the sounds, but it didn't work. Then, as quickly as it had started, the noise was gone; their feet also no longer there. As I stood there stunned trying to catch my breath, I heard laughter fading away as the perpetrators fled down the halls.

I'd realized that if they'd really wanted to get me, that stupid slide lock holding the cubicle door shut would not have stopped them. Their scare tactic worked. I turned around and lost my lunch in the toilet where my cheeks had just been sitting. When I was done, I wiped my mouth with the back of my shaky hand, flushed for the second time, and came out. The bathroom was empty. I left it and ran all the way from the science building to grease central; the auto-shop. Only when I was there did I stop at the boys room and go in, wanting desperately to rinse my mouth, wash my face and try to calm down.

"Hey, kid. Ain't you supposed to be in class?" Some greaser I didn't know said, smoking a cigarette while perched on the window sill.

"I could say the same about you, grease. Mind your own business." I chirped. The restroom door behind me suddenly opened and I spun around, ready to fight if I had to. Instead, Two-Bit stood looking at me, worry on his face. Then his eyes rolled toward the kid in the window.

"Mark, you're done. Out of my office. Go."

"But...?" The kid, Mark, obviously wanted to stay, but Two-Bit had a 'don't challenge me' look to his face and "Mark" left, flicking his still-smoldering butt in the furthermost sink down on his way out.

"Hell kid, what brings you to the greasier side of campus? You look terrible."

I tried to hide my still shaking hands by returning to the faucets, turning on the hot and cold to try to get a non-scalding mix. "Nothing, just wanted to see how the other half was doing." Lame answer, but it was all I could come up with at the time. My brain wasn't processing excuses quite so well at the moment.

"Ponyboy, what is it?" He put his hand on my back, innocently enough and something he'd done a million times, but I recoiled at the touch, nearly taking out my hip on yet another porcelain sink in the row.

"Shit kid, enough!" His forehead was now creased with worry lines. "Don't lie to me. You're hiding something, something big. For one thing, you never ditch class; for another, you're white as snow, shaking like a leaf, and pouring more sweat than you ever do in a track meet. Now what gives?"

The verbal reminders of what I looked like were all I needed to conjure up the memories of them beating on the walls around me, closing in. I pushed past him for a stall, bringing up whatever was left in my stomach; bile, I think, from the way it burned hot in my throat. When I was done, I flushed again and leaned back against the stall walls as Two-Bit kept watching me. I couldn't hide the way I was shaking or the way the sweat was now making visible rivers down my face.

"Would you buy food poisoning?" I asked with fake nonchalance as I stared at the bare light bulb glowing overhead. The Shop class and the students taking it weren't important enough to warrant buying an actual lamp shade. Pathetic.

"You had the other half of the same ham sandwich I had, so no, I ain't buying food poisoning."

"Thought not." I wearily managed to return to the sinks, rinse my mouth and wash my face off, then dried off on those cheap brown paper towels that seemed to be the only type of towel the Tulsa Department of Education could afford.

"You get jumped?" He asked, looking me over closer, but not seeing any marks. There weren't any. Being scared so bad you puke your guts up won't leave marks, at least none you can see.

"No, I wasn't jumped. Let it go, _please_ Two-Bit? I swear I wasn't jumped. And don't go telling Darry or Soda about this, or Steve either – cause he'll just go straight to Soda with it. Just pretend I never came in here. Be a buddy, alright?"

"'Being a buddy' always lands me in the hot seat when it comes to you. I swear kid, I wish you'd tell me what the Sam Hill was going on." His hand felt my forehead. "You ain't hot, but you sure look sick."

I turned to go.

"Hey, come back here!"

"Can't, I've already missed half of class."

He caught up with me, looking a mix of concern and anger. "Ponyboy...." he started, but I jerked away.

"Look, I can't stay in the bathroom any longer." I explained. "The smoke in there is making my lungs itch again. I got to get out, at least to fresh air. I'll be fine."

He understood about the lung itching thing. I can take being around others who smoked only but so long, then the want of a cigarette takes over. Quitting last summer had hurt bad, but I'd done it. Now that I had, I wanted to stay that way. The cravings ripping up my insides weren't helping though. Considering the thick, stale haze of smoke lingering in the bathroom, I was surprised I wasn't begging Two-Bit for a stick right then. He let me go and I headed back toward the main building alone.

Back in the present, Darry was looking at me, an amused look on his face. I reached down and picked up my fork, wiping it off with my napkin before using it again.

"Nothing, why?" The biggest lie I'd tried in a long time, and I was sure the truth was all over my face.

"I got a call from your coach, wanting to know if you've talked to me. What were you supposed to talk with me about?"

I thought about it, remembering the basketball tryouts. I sighed.

"Coach is wanting me to tryout for basketball. Said I'd make a good point guard."

Darry seemed impressed, grinning ear to ear. He knew I wouldn't go out for football, but apparently basketball was just as good. He was already satisfied with my track skills.

"Well, are you going to or not?"

I looked at him. "Darry, the uniforms cost more than my track gear! And away games will mess with my studying. I'm already overloaded as it is."

He jaw slowed down as he mulled it over. "Don't let the expense stop you. If you want to go out for basketball, do it. I'll find the money somewhere. In the meantime, your grades are all perfect. I don't see why you can't try out at least. Give it a shot. A three point shot!"

"Har har." His joke was lame, but he did manage to coax a smile out of me.

"By the way, what happened in Social Studies?"

Smile gone. I felt my face tense. That was the class I was late for. I managed to get a handle on myself in time to hear the last twenty minutes of lecture. I couldn't help notice the smirks of some of my soc classmates as I handed in the slip I'd gotten from the nurse. I'd stopped by her office in the main hall and gotten the slip, telling her I'd been in the bathroom with a very upset stomach and couldn't help being late. It was sort of the truth anyway. Since I wasn't one to ask for tardy slips in the past, she took me at my word and handed me the paper. The teacher took it without question, and I was allowed in with nothing further asked or said.

Until Darry wanted a better explanation.

"I was late getting to class. Had a stomach problem. That's all." I said, taking an extra long gulp of my milk to keep from having to say more.

"A stomach problem?" He asked, expecting more. He was neither the nurse nor my teacher, and simple explanations were never enough.

"I'm pretty sure you can understand 'stomach problem' without my having to go into more detail, Darry. Lunch didn't agree with me is all. However, if you want to know color, consistency, odor...."

"No, that's quite alright, Ponyboy. Just don't eat whatever you ate again." He quickly stopped me, not wanting to ruin his own appetite in the process.

"Um, who called?" I wanted to know who'd ratted me out.

"The nurse. She calls if any student requests a sick slip. Told me you looked authentically sick, but seemed well enough to stay in school."

He made Soda a plate and covered it in foil then put it in the fridge. He'd be in later, both he and Steve were still working off their many debts of swapped shifts from when I was in Hollis. I sighed, knowing this schedule was going to continue for a long while. I got up to wash dishes without being asked, not really hungry anymore. It was a habit I'd brought back with me from Mrs. Nixon's. Doing the dishes seemed to settle my nerves somehow, and no one around here complained about it, either. When I was done, I plopped down in front of the TV to watch whatever was on, anything to break the silence. An hour later, Darry got up to go hang at the DX station.

"I'll be back in a bit."

"Alright." I flipped off the TV and went back to my room. Standing there, I felt like the walls were closing in. I couldn't get the echo's of those soc's banging on the stall walls out of my head. It still caused shivers to run up and down my body. I left my room, feeling uncomfortable alone. Everything was just closing in and I had to get out. So I did.

I went outside into the back yard and curled up in one of our lounge chairs, staring at the stars. I spent a while looking for the constellations Lyra and Sagittarius to keep my mind busy. I never noticed my lids getting heavy, and before I could find Pisces, the sky turned black and I was asleep.

XXX

"... lights are still on. Wonder if he's watching the late show." Darry pulled up and we headed inside. "Pony?"

The couch was bare, the house silent. Darry went to check Pony's room, then looked at me, eyebrows furrowed. "He's probably in my room." I reasoned as I headed to the kitchen sink to wash a days worth of grease off my hands. Darry checked, but came back shaking his head.

"He ain't there either. I told him to stay put. Now where..."

"Darry, look...." I'd cut him off, noticing the back door was open. I thought he'd be leaning across that low hanging tree branch of his, but Darry spotted him across the yard instead.

He was curled up asleep in one of our chairs, his hands tucked under his chin for warmth. The evenings were getting colder, reminding me of our darkest night a year ago. I could tell Darry was remembering it too. That date was drawing nearer, both of us worried how Pony'd handle it.

Darry reached down and picked him up, carrying him to his room and carefully sat him down on his old mattress. I slipped his shoes off then covered him with his blanket. Ponyboy never woke. I could only hope his dreams would leave him in peace for once.

He'd earned some happiness by now.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	5. Discord

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 5

**Discord**

XXX

"Are you even paying attention? Kid, I swear, you're really starting to worry me."

Two-Bit's seriousness brought me back to reality. I didn't remember the ride to school, but here we were walking up the old stone steps for another day's worth of brain stimulating lectures designed to make our futures bright.

"Yeah, Two-Bit, I'm paying attention. Blond, big boobs, low intelligence. Puts out. I heard every word." Conversations with Two-Bit rarely strayed from his favorite topic, so even though I hadn't remembered a single thing he'd said, I knew I wasn't far off the mark.

In all honesty, I not only didn't remember the ride to school, but the whole morning was a blur. I didn't even remember going to bed last night, but I was there when my alarm went off. Both Darry and Soda gave me strange looks as I chomped down my cereal, but neither said anything. I'd even checked the mirror twice just to make sure I didn't have a big glob of toothpaste stuck to my cheek or maybe a full blown beard was finally growing on my face. Neither were there. I was glad when Two-Bit honked his horn. The tension was getting to me. I grabbed my books and headed out.

"See ya." I called over my shoulder.

"Bye, Ponyboy." They called back.

Now, Two-Bit was giving me the paranoid look.

"Look, I dunno what happened yesterday, but if something's going on, you need to tell me. You ain't gonna have a lot of backup if you get in a jam over in the insanely smart section of the school, so you need to watch your back."

I was getting perturbed. Everyone was telling me the same stuff, just no one understood how monumentally difficult that was. "I do. Thanks for the ride, Two-Bit. See ya at lunch." I headed off to my locker, leaving Two-Bit to stand there and wonder. Or wander. Whatever it is he does during school hours.

My first two classes went as every other class did. Long, boring, fact-filled, mind-numbing. I endured the monotony. Then a fire bell clanged to life, providing some relief from the doldrums. In my many, _many_ years of school, there had never been a real fire. Usually it was someone pulling a prank. If caught, the prankster could be expelled. If _not_ caught, he or she was the unknown hero of the day.

We filed out, mixing with the hoards of others streaming from their classes. Conversations started up and laughter could be heard filling the entire hallway. Some typical pushing started up the closer we got to the stairs. Teachers were essentially useless in these situations, considering a few of the guys stood taller than they did. By now, we all knew where to go and how to get there anyway.

My class was on the third floor, so the usual volume of inane chatter was stepped up a few notches, making the halls and stairwell pretty loud as we made our way down and out of the building. You couldn't really hear anything in particular unless you concentrated really hard on it. There had to have been over two hundred students all cramming down the stairwell around me, everyone being herded like cattle. I wasn't paying much attention, just moving at the same rushed yet not rushed pace everyone else took, when I heard a deep voice behind me.

"Time to start paying up, greaser."

Before I could look, I felt a sharp jab in my lower back and found myself launched down the remaining steps to the second floor landing. The onslaught of kids behind me didn't stop, so getting up was harder than really necessary. Then again, these weren't my friends. I wasn't going to get any help from anywhere.

"Move it, greaser!"

"Like the view down there?"

Several taunts came my way at the same time as I struggled to get back to my feet. Of course, the throngs of people behind me didn't stop, so I felt my backside being used as a doormat, literally. Then the shoe coming down on my wrist really got my attention, it reminded me of one of those loafers I saw yesterday under the stall. I jumped to my feet. For a moment, I didn't feel the sting in my wrist as I connected it with the shoe owner's smirking face. The melee was on. Total time for all this to happen, oh, maybe three seconds.

He had a pretty good power punch, landing one after another to my stomach and chest. I was doing my best to deflect what I could and smash my own fists into him with upper cuts, since he had size and muscle on me. Oh yeah, _and _a few friends with him. Sure, I'd bulked up and gotten a little taller over the summer, but still didn't have what they did. Half the crowd (mostly guys) stayed to watch, the others were still going around us, trying to leave. One of his blows knocked me breathless to my knees but when he came to finish me, I caught his leg mid-kick, doubled it over and sent him over the step and down. I wasn't really able to see where and how he landed as his friends now took over. One had me from the front, the other from behind - each cussing a mean streak as they landed blow after blow to my midsection.

A shrill whistle blew from somewhere in the distance, someone grabbed me by my torn shirt and hissed, "This ain't over, grease," flung me to the side, and disappeared. I took off too, dodging into the closest bathroom, not even checking to see if it was a girls or guys room, then hopped out the window onto the eaves, dropping down to the ground below. I was supposed to join my class, but instead went over to the area where the shop students were huddled. Safety in numbers only mattered if the numbers were on your side.

"Christ, Curtis, you get bopped some leaving the building?" Curly's taunts did nothing to appease me.

"What are you still doing here, Curly? I thought you were done with school after second period?" I snapped, not wanting to deal with him right now. I had to fix my face before getting busted for fighting. Although we hadn't been officially caught, it wouldn't be hard to figure out who was involved with a bleeding split lip and a swelling black eye facing the teachers the rest of the day.

A strong hand suddenly took me by my neck and pushed. I ducked and came around swinging. I was sick and tired of being someone's punching bag today.

"Whoa, kid. It's me. Cool it." Steve's voice hit my brain before his face registered in my non-swollen eye, and I stopped. "Christ almighty!" He muttered once he got a good look, then started pushing me behind the throngs of people. "Let's get you outta here before you _really_ get in trouble."

The parking lot was behind the shop. Greasers were milling around everywhere, smoking and lounging. Steve opened his car and I slid in, grabbing a pack of smokes off his seat before he could stop me. I held the stick in my non-swollen hand, feeling it's smoothness, wanting it worse than ever. Just. One. Little. Puff. Steve watched me, but said nothing.

"Who gave you the shiner, kid?"

"Would you believe I slipped and fell down the stairs?" I asked harshly.

"With your record, yeah. But not this time. So who was it?"

I mulled it over, not wanting to say. Wouldn't matter anyway. But Steve wasn't Two-Bit. This was going to get to Darry via the Sodapop Express. "Some soc."

"_Which_ soc?"

"Doesn't really matter, now does it." It was a statement, not a question. Any soc would have been happy to land one on me. Heck, they seemed to be lining up these days.

"_Here _you are. I've been.... _shit, _kid. _Now_ what happened?" Two-Bit found us, and his comical face went to a scowl in less time than it takes to blink. He took my chin by his hand, moving my face side to side to get a better look. "Is your nose broke too?"

I pulled my head from his hands and felt my nose. "No."

"Soc's got to him." Steve said, lighting up. I felt the stick in my hand, the craving scraping my lungs raw. I gave in.

I picked up the lighter and flicked it to life just as Two-Bit reached over and took the unlit stick from my lips, lighting it for himself. Bastard.

I got out, nearly breaking the door handle off in my hand. I pulled off my shirt, unconcerned with who saw me, and used it to mop the blood off my face. As I sat on the hood of Steve's car letting the clean air fill my lungs, I felt their eyes on me. I heard them talking, but they spoke too low for me to hear them. Firetrucks pulled up to inspect for the supposed fire, and Steve's engine suddenly roared to life under me.

"Get in," he barked, his head sticking out the window. I came over and hopped in the backseat, not knowing or caring where we were going.

Steve ended up driving us to my house. "Go get cleaned up. It won't take the fire marshal long to cancel the alarm." I went to wash my face and grab a fresh shirt while they raided the fridge. They were still talking real low so's I still couldn't hear them when I came out.

"Mmmh Mmmh. They did a doozy to your face, kid." Two-Bit was admiring my eye. "Gonna be one heck of a shiner."

"Did you at least _see_ him?" Steve asked, with a tone that said he knew he was wasting his time by asking.

"No, I didn't. Just a soc. A random, run-of-the-mill, piece-of-shit soc. Dime a dozen."

"I _told_ you to watch your back." Two-Bit grumbled.

"It's hard to watch your back when you're getting it from all sides, now ain't it, Two-Bit?" I spat back. My patience level was at an all-time low.

"How many were there?" Steve asked, this time more alarmed.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. "I don't know. A couple. I didn't exactly have time to stop and do a census."

They looked at each other, saying nothing. Finally, Steve tossed his keys in the air, catching them in his palm. "Well, you ready to get back? Darry'll skin you raw if you ditch the rest of the day, although looking at you now, I wouldn't blame you for it."

I slapped a sandwich together quickly to eat on the way back. "Yeah, lets go." Catching a last look at myself in the mirror, my left eye was swollen and turning purple, my lip was also swollen and split down the middle, and my ribs were sore on both sides. No telling how many bruises I had elsewhere on my body. I only hoped I'd left a few marks of my own to show my gratitude.

"I'm pretty sure Darry'll skin me no matter what happens."

I hopped in the back of Steve's car before either could say anything more. We were back at the school just in time to join the last of the stragglers as everyone meandered back to class. I had an escort back to the third floor - both Steve and Two-Bit. They glanced around the room, both of them bulking up as they watched me head to my desk, then turned to leave as the teacher looked at them.

I made sure to get to my other classes in record time, going all the way to the shop building to use the restroom if I had to go, and in other ways getting paranoid about people getting too close to me. I was going to drive myself nuts if this kept up.

XXX

"Don't blow a gasket when you see your kid brother tonight."

I looked at Steve. He was punching his time card and had a weary look on his face.

"What did he do _now?_"

"Well, I don't know what he _did _or _didn't _do, but his face is a mess. Got a shiner from hell today. Soc's jumped him sometime during the fire drill."

I sat up more, not liking where this was headed. "How bad's he hurt?"

"Cool your jets, Soda. He's like a cat, got nine lives. He'll be fine. Shiner, busted lip. His back and sides are ripe with bruises, but he's fine. He's more worried about what Muscles is gonna say than what those lowlifes did."

"He took them on alone? How many were there?"

"Relax, buddy. I told ya, he's fine. Now see, I asked him all those same questions, but he didn't give specifics; and it ain't like there are a lot of guys from our side of town hanging on the third floor to get help from."

"They're always jumping him. I'm so sick of that shit."

"Yeah, well, me too."

I looked at him, surprised. He never spoke this way about Pony before.

"It's time those Soc clowns got over last year," Steve continued, pulling on his coveralls to climb into the pit. "We lost more buddies than they did, and they were the one's who started it in the first place."

"Seems the rumble didn't solve anything." I muttered.

"Nope. This is personal. And I think we're gonna have to take care of it personally."

I caught his eye, understanding exactly what he meant. He was right, too. This wouldn't end until _we_ ended it.

"Come on, Soda, lets get to work."

I nodded, parking my thoughts for the moment. Not for long, though, my own patience was wearing out.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	6. Darry's Plea

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 6

**Darry's Plea**

XXX

Darry came trudging in late, holding his right shoulder with his left hand, a grimace pulling down the corners of his mouth. I knew that look. He'd pulled a muscle again.

"Soda, can you...?"

"Yeah, sure Darry. But in exchange, you gotta hold your temper." He looked at me, confused, then glowered.

"_Now_ what?"

I heard Pony's door creak open and got up. "I mean it, Darry. This wasn't his fault."

His eyes searched the darkness of the hallway then Pony came out, timidly stepping from the shadows into the glare of the living room lights. Darry's look changed from glowering to something just short of rage. His shoulder forgotten, he crossed the room to Pony's side in two strides, gripping his jaw and turning it side to side.

"What happened?" He demanded.

The skin around his eye was now a solid purple, his lip swollen with the slit down the middle still oozing since he'd reopened it from eating dinner. I'd had him holding an ice pack over the left side of his face since I'd come home and found him hunched over his homework, trying to hold his pencil tight enough to write with, despite his right hand and wrist sore and swollen. He never complained though, not once. Steve was right, he could take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. Darry, on the other hand, looked like he was wound up tight enough to explode.

"Got pushed down the stairs during the fire drill today. Same soc that's been on my case for a few days. I held my own for a while, before his buddies joined in. Didn't get caught, so no worries. How was work?"

I almost laughed. He said all this like he was discussing a movie plot. Darry, conversely, was _not_ amused.

"They've been messing with you for a _few days_? Ponyboy, what is going on? I'm sending you to school to learn, not get beaten."

Darry's eyes were smoldering, but it looked like they were going to be civil to each other at least. I leaned against the table, eager to hear the story myself. He didn't say much to me about it when I'd found him, just said he'd been in a fight but suffered no worse than the other guy. However, Steve had already told me there was more than one other guy, and I doubted any of them looked this bad.

Pony turned to the kitchen for more ice and sat at the table, laying the freshly wrapped cubes on his wrist this time.

"I told you, I got pushed going down the stairs at school. End of story."

"No it ain't, little man. You just said this has been going on for a few days. Don't think I haven't noticed you've been acting weird around here coincidently for the last few days as well. Out with it. _Now_."

Darry's bark made both me and Pony jump. Pony first looked down then moved his eyes to his sore hand.

"It's been a year almost, Darry. They're just telling me they ain't forgotten, is all."

"What have they _done_ to you?" Darry's voice was low and cold. No one needed reminding around here of what happened a year ago. I don't think a day has gone by that one of us hasn't thought of it and dealt with it in one way or another. Pony was silent, his long thin fingers slowly and individually rising half an inch up before slowly settling back on the table. "Pony,_ talk_ to me. What have they _done_?" His voice was more caring, but still ominous.

"Nothing I can't handle. Scare tactics, mostly. Today was the first time they actually did something physical. They could have gotten me many times before if they'd wanted to. It's nothing."

A chill went up my spine. They'd used scare tactics on Johnny too, leaving him scarred on the outside and scared on the inside for the remainder of his short life. Now they'd moved on to Ponyboy, seemingly picking off the meekest and most vulnerable of us one at a time. My stomach twisted as anger boiled.

Darry was also seething, but said nothing. None of this was Pony's fault.

"How's your hand?" he finally asked, carefully removing the dripping washcloth from his wrist to see it. The skin from his wrist down was slightly swollen, but his nails were pink. He bent them a little, not admitting it hurt, but the fine twitch at the corner of his lip and the minute squint from his eyes gave it away.

"It'll be fine."

"Did you break it smashing the soc's nose in?" I tried to tease, hoping to make Pony feel better. He wasn't weak; he was pretty good at defending himself in a fair fight. Knowing the soc's though, I knew this hadn't been fair.

"No, I think it got sprained when that soc stomped his foot on it. My jabs didn't help matters either."

Darry shook his head, scrubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair. This was a no-win situation. None of the gang were in any of Pony's upper classes. He would be alone in their company for three hours, easy prey for the soc's to harass, and there wasn't a darn thing any of us could do.

"You want me to go to the school, have a talk with the teachers or principal?" Darry asked, knowing like I did it wouldn't do any good.

He looked at Darry with alarm. "No! _Please_, Darry, don't. You know that won't help. I'll be fine." He was silent for a while, then got up. "I still have homework. I'd better get back to studying." He dropped the melting ice cubes in the sink, wrung out the washcloth and went back to his room.

Darry looked at me, rolling his eyes after Pony's door clicked close.

"I should have seen this coming."

"No you shouldn't have." I countered. "This crap was supposed to end after the rumble."

"Well," he said, looking worn and empty. "I don't know what to do now. My heart says 'take your blade,' but my head screams not to. I know if they catch him with that, it would only be an excuse to do worse. It could get him killed. You got any ideas?"

For once, I had none. Silently, I shook my head.

"Damn." He looked at his watch. "I got to go. Told the warehouse manager I'd be in for a few hours tonight. Watch him, Soda."

"How bout your back?"

He rubbed his shoulder again. "It's fine. Just keep an eye on Pony for me. I'll be back around midnight."

Darry trudged out the door, looking older and more tired than I'd seen him in a year. I felt the same.

XXX

"You were_ there,_ Two-Bit." I said, trying hard to keep my voice low. It was late and I was tired. I'd found Two-Bit moseying home from the direction of the strip, hoofing it. His car was still a pile of parts not totally functioning as a whole. Soda had logged more hours under it than any other car on the East Side, but it needed a miracle to work as a single unit again. "What the hell happened?"

"Darry, I swear! I know as much as you do. I found him in the car with Steve, face all busted up but otherwise in one piece."

"So they just decided to gang up on him during a fire drill? Does that even make sense to you? C'mon, Two-Bit, even you're smarter than that."

"Look, I dunno what's going on. The kid came barreling into the john by the mechanics hall yesterday, shaking like a leaf, pale as a sheet and sweating bullets. I asked him what was going on but he never had time to answer. He turned and tossed his cookies. He wouldn't say why or what had happened either. Then today he got into it with the soc's during the fire drill. I'm as puzzled as you are."

"_Yesterday_. And this is the first I'm hearing about it? Don't I feed you enough to be an informant, or are you going to start wanting money now?"

He grimaced slightly, realizing he let something slip.

"Oops, I wasn't exactly supposed to let that out. I'm losing my touch."

"And what was _that_ supposed to mean, _Keith_?"

"Aww, don't go there, Dar. Just - he asked me not to rat him out about being sick in the john. And money would be fine, since you asked. Are you paying by the hour or by the secret?"

"Shut up, Two-Bit, and just be glad you still get to store your beer at my house." Something occurred to me. "Two-Bit, why was he in the shop building? He has World History and Chemistry back to back, then Social Studies. But he was late going to Social Studies, the nurse called to let me know. What was he doing way across campus?"

"I dunno. He showed up and puked. Why?"

Thoughts swirled in my head. Why would he go all the way over to the shop just to throw up? He had to have passed at least three men's rooms on the way. What would make him go there?

"Because Ponyboy rarely does anything that out of character. He'd only go to the shop if he felt..." Felt what? I knew the answer, I just didn't want to say it. _Frightened._ And he hadn't just gone there because of a sick stomach. The sick stomach happened as a _result_ of his fear. An_ extreme_ fear. Two-Bit slipped and said he was pale, sweaty and shaky. What had those soc's done to warrant that kind of fear, though? "He asked you to keep it a secret? That he was sick in the john?"

Two-Bit looked at me, unsure where I was headed with this. I didn't know either, but would rather have all the facts first. "Yeah. Asked me to be a buddy, not tell you or Soda. Kid worries about you, knows you'd only worry in return about him. I swear, you guys worry about everything! You all need to lighten up!"

"Do the bruises on Ponyboy's _face _make you think I need to lighten up?" I hissed.

"Um, well, no. Sorry, I forgot."

"Well then, here's a really important fact you need to remember. I don't care when he begs you not to squeal on him, but for his sake and yours, if you know something ain't right, then I need to know. You're not 'being his buddy' if secrets get him hurt. The only secrets you need to keep are the ones I tell you. You got that?"

He nodded, the bleak look of understanding on his face. "Yeah, I got it."

Now if I could figure this out, everything would be better. I pulled up to his house and let him out, then drove off. I had another stop I wanted to make before heading home.

XXX

The ground wasn't lit, usually there wasn't a need for lights after the sun went down. No one came here at night, well, no one but me. I'd been here in the brightest of days and in the blackest of nights, over and over so many times my feet knew the way without my having to tell them, or my eyes needing to see the way. Up the hill and around the circle, then over to the willow towards the back. The tree looked different in the darkness, like a waterfall stuck in mid-spray. Mom liked waterfalls.

Their headstone was simple - their names, dates when they each entered life and the single date when they'd departed it, and a few simple words; _Loving Husband and Wife, Father and Mother, _and _Gone Too Soon._ Above the words were three birds etched in the stone, flying alone. The birds were Pony's idea. It was all he'd asked for when I'd asked him that week for input on the headstone, so I couldn't deny him that request. He'd even gone to the trouble of drawing them himself on a piece of paper which I'd given to the masonry worker, just to make sure it was right. For the longest time, that was all he'd said. Johnny and Soda got him to talk sometimes, but he wouldn't say much.

"_I've gotten them this far, but I swear I don't know what to do now. I'm scared to death about this. I can't keep him safe, not even in school. Watch over him. Both of them."_

I sighed, looking at the stars above. Pony loves the stars, although his star gazing has waned over the last year. The big dipper overhead was clear in the night sky. That was the only constellation I knew, but Pony could easily point out ten more if I'd asked him. I wondered what star they were on. I had to believe they were up there, watching over us. More point of fact - watching over _them._ It's been almost two years since I had to take over, and I still felt like I was doing it all wrong.

And if I _hadn't_ have done it wrong a year ago, two friends wouldn't be in this same patch of ground nearby, and one more soc would be walking the street. Which would have meant my youngest brother _wouldn't _be scared just to go to class.

And _I _wouldn't constantly live with this enormous weight of guilt pressing on my soul.

I tapped their headstone then snaked my way back to the truck. It was after midnight. I had to get up in almost six hours and do it all over again.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	7. Alleyway Hostilities

**Autumn's Changes**

Chapter 7

**Alleyway Hostilities**

XXX

"Come on, Ponyboy, you need to get out of the house."

The four walls were closing in on me, making me feel like I couldn't breathe. Sweat dripped from my skin despite the crispness of the air. This was _the_ night. A year ago. I'd come home late, Darry'd hit me, I'd ran, and Johnny'd killed Bob. The beginning of everything wrong in my life. The date had returned to haunt me.

Darry and Soda had exchanged concerned looks but said nothing. At least, they'd said nothing to me. Instead, they decided to shanghai me out of the house and over to the strip in search of something to do. "A diversion", I'd heard Darry whisper when he thought I wasn't listening. As if I would or _could_ forget. Even a nuclear blast wouldn't take my mind off it.

I didn't know if it was sheer coincidence or if fate was playing some ugly game with me, but Darry chose the Dairy Queen's parking lot as the spot to leave the truck so we could meander our way around on foot. Most guys on the strip left their vehicles either there or at the huge grocery store lot on the other side of the three mile span. However, if they were trying to divert my attention, they were already failing. As I looked at the large sign, my mind racing back to Dally - turning into the Windrixville Dairy Queen doing at least thirty, nearly throwing me from the rear seat of Buck's open convertible.

"You want something to eat, Ponyboy?" Darry asked, noticing my gaze at the sign.

"No, I ain't hungry." I shook my head and followed them.

"Well, I got some money if you change your mind."

"_I got plenty of money."_

Shivers ran down my spine.

A car honked and slowed down. "Hey, Sodapop!" Some girl with way too much makeup was leaning out a car's shotgun seat, smiling at Soda.

"Hey, doll face," Soda went over and stood closer. While he stood there talking, the backseat window was suddenly rolled down and a younger girl leaned out.

"Is that your brother?" she asked, her eyes making a bee line for me.

I took a side step over to Darry and nudged him. "Hey Darry, some girl's looking for you."

"Hmm, what?" He'd not been paying attention, busy reading the headlines of the newspapers in the paper boxes on the corner when he turned to see who I was talking about. In the meantime, while Soda's laughter rang out and Darry sputtered out some apologies behind me, I turned down the alley to cross to Magellen's, a store full of nickel and dime stuff, not interested at all in the overly painted girls hanging out the car windows.

The store wasn't big, but had all kinds of stuff in it. Johnny and I used to come here a lot. We'd get bubble gum or candy bars and maybe a deck of cards, then go hang out at some burger joint messing around with what we'd bought while getting the gossip on everyone in town until it was time to head back home. It felt strange being in here alone now. Just being on the strip felt strange, like I was out of my environment.

"Can I help you, kid?" The store clerk asked in a rather rough tone.

I looked at him, shaking my head. "No, just looking." I was used to it. Greasers weren't exactly anyone's customer of choice around here. Greasers tended to buy as much as they stole. Two-Bit had probably lifted an entire inventory sheet's worth of stuff from here alone. I, however, had never lifted anything. I knew the ramifications of getting caught would not look good to our social worker. Or a judge.

"Uh huh," The clerk mumbled. I got a Pepsi and handed over a dime for it. He gave me a distrustful look as he rang it up. I left, wanting to get away from his hateful eyes. I'd never done anything to him.

I headed back up the alley hoping the girls had crawled back in their cars and had gone by now, but when I got back to the corner where I'd left everyone, no one was there. I looked up and down the strip on both sides of the four lane road but didn't see anyone.

"Great, now I'm_ really_ gonna get it."

I took another swig of my drink and continued North, hoping to catch site of my brothers - or any familiar face that might be able to help me locate them, but for once, all I saw were just people. The strip was as impersonal as ever; greasers hanging out everywhere with soc's screaming insults out their cars at them as they drove past. In a year, nothing had changed. All that fighting and dying had been for nothing.

I knew Max's Pet Store was a few blocks over, and looking at my watch I knew he might probably still be there, even if the shop was closed. I crossed the street and cut down another alley heading to Vine. It was a longer alley then the others and darker too thanks to very little lighting. The whole thing smelled of urine, as many drunks often passed out here after the strip shut down for the night. No cars ever came down it. Somewhere around the midway point, I knew I had make a big mistake.

Two guys were coming up the alley from the other side. Before I could see their faces, I had a creepy feeling that I needed to get out of here. I turned around, figuring I'd see Max another day. But.... coming down the alley from the other side was a third person carrying something shiny in his hand, something metallic that an occasional light glinted off of.

A blade.

_Shit! _I thought. I took another swig of my Pepsi and held the neck of the bottle. Somewhere in the recesses of my brain came a long forgotten joke.

_What's the safest thing to be when one is met by a gang of social outcasts in an alley?_

My answer was, I think, a judo expert. Two-Bit's answer had been something along the lines of another social outcast. Right now, I'd prefer being the judo expert. I gripped the bottle tighter, it was all I had.

"That bottle _really_ gonna help you, grease?" Taunted one.

"Ain't got nowhere to go now, have you, Greaser?" Echoed another from my other side.

"Time to settle the score, you worthless,_ useless_ piece of trash," demanded the third. Their voices were determined. Unwavering. The only one feeling fear was me, though I tried not to show it.

I backed up against the alley wall, trying to keep them from completely surrounding me. I smashed the end of the bottle against the brick, feeling the shards brush the leg of my jeans as they fell to the ground.

"I didn't kill nobody." I said, keeping my voice even, trying to bluff them. My eyes went left and right as both sides narrowed the distance. "Your buddy Bob was the one trying to kill me." A fact no one seemed to care about.

"Yeah, well too bad he didn't finish the job."

The motion was blinding.

One fist after another came from opposite sides, using my face as a target. I ducked, swung, blocked and connected a time or two but was no match. Three on one was not going to be fair, weapons or no. I'd managed to get a few jabs in with the bottle, but during the melee, the bottle slipped from my grip and disappeared. Someone got behind me, pinning my arms just as Two-Bit had done a million times in our play wrestling matches. At least I knew how to get out of that hold.

I shoved the guy back, sandwiching him hard against the brick and jerking my head back and into some part of his body at the same time. "Fuck!" he muttered as his grip loosened. I nearly managed to get out, but the soc in front unexpectedly landed the heel of his shoe in my stomach, hard, sending me to my knees as all the air left my lungs.

I'd done the best I could, but I already knew this was a loss from the start. They landed one punch after another at my face as I crouched trying to deflect as much as I could. A blurry silver glint caught my eye just as a sharp pain slithered up my right side, but I wasn't able to piece together the glint with the pain. I was powerless to do anything except huddle against the brick wall and work to get air back in my body.

Then I heard my name piercing the din around me.

The pounding of feet stampeding closer got everyone's attention. One of the soc's pounding me split, while the other two stood up, apparently ready for another round.

I heard Soda's fierce cursing as I watched him from the corner of my eye slam himself full-on into one of the soc's, tackling him like a football player would. Before they stopped rolling, they were fully involved in a punching bout. The guy he was slugging had plenty of fight left in him, but nothing was going to match up to Soda's level of fury.

Meanwhile, Darry took on the guy with the blade. I watched as the blade sliced the air across Darry's chest, too close and too many times to give me comfort. I wanted to join in, help him somehow, but couldn't seem to move. Finally, the guy slashed at the same time that Darry anticipated it, allowing Darry to grab his wrist and whip him with one hand back against the brick wall next to me, then power punch him with his other hand.

The blade fell, freeing Darry to start bashing him around like a Mexican pinata. It wasn't a slug fest, Darry was letting him have it with both cylinders. I was getting worried he'd kill him. I reached over between their feet and wrapped my fingers around the blade, unfortunately getting kicked again in the process by the guy Darry was quickly turning to pulp.

"Pony, get the hell out of the way!"

As if I could! I wasn't sure _who_ I was tripping, but every time I tried to move, my side screamed from the effort and I had to stop. They were so close to me that I was essentially under their feet. A sudden kick to my back got my attention, leaving me stunned in the process.

A siren blaring in the distance stopped the action in mid punch. Darry tossed his guy aside and he bolted, freed at last from Darry's pounding. Soda's guy was ahead of him, but not by much. I tried to get up, but wasn't really sure which way "up" was. Heavy breathing filled the air around me as my brothers kneeled down in front of me.

"Ponyboy? How bad is he, Darry?"

"I dunno. Won't know till we get him home. Pone, can you hear me?"

"Yeah," came my muttered answer. My side hurt, _every_ side, now that I had time to assess my damage.

"You able to walk? Cops are coming and we gotta get outta here." Darry surmised the obvious in a low, rushed tone.

I struggled to my feet, holding my right arm clamped over my right side as Darry helped haul me up with my left. He never had to remind me how precarious our situation would be if _he_ had to go to jail. He slung my arm over his shoulder and supported most of my weight as he all but dragged me back out onto the strip. The bright lights of the storefronts and passing cars hurt my eyes, but I just blinked and blindly went where he led me.

"Can you walk?" He asked after we'd cleared the alley then let me go. I wobbled some but stayed on my feet. My freshly bruised and bloodied face was attracting enough attention. Him having to carry me would have the fuzz on us faster than flies on garbage.

"Yeah, but I can't see too good." I mumbled, not recognizing my voice.

From my other side, I felt Soda's hand on my upper arm as he guided me behind Darry up the strip and back to the truck. I didn't relax until I was safely sandwiched between my brothers in the too-small cab. For once, it's closeness didn't bother me. Soda put his arm around me while Darry gunned the engine and peeled out. I closed my eyes, not able to see anything anyway. At least this year, I was running _toward_ home and not away. I wondered, briefly, if a time would come when I wouldn't have to run at all.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	8. Broken Mirrors

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 8

**Broken Mirrors**

XXX

"Man, what party did I miss?"

Steve came in to find bloodied bandages and washrags all over the living room. I had already slathered the antibiotic cream on the cut I'd gotten in the fight and was holding a bandage over it while Soda taped it to my chest as tightly as he could. It refused to stop bleeding despite it being rather superficial. I thought I'd managed to avoid his blade but somehow in the middle of a swing, he'd connected. I hadn't felt it at first, my attention focused on the soc bastard wielding the knife. He'd taken a swing at Ponyboy with it just moments earlier, and judging by the bloodstains on the smaller shirt on the floor, it was obvious he'd connected with Pony too. If he'd have jabbed instead of sliced, Pony wouldn't have made it home. He'd be on some operating table instead. As it was, he was still cut like me. Unfortunately, _unlike_ me, it wasn't the only wound he'd received.

His face worried me. Already, dark bruising and swelling was taking up residence along both sides of his face, along his cheekbones and over his nose. Almost a solid stripe. I'd given him the once over twice along his head, gently pushing in and feeling along, searching for anything that may be broken, but he denied any breaks. His eyes said the same. Finally, I gave in and sent him in for a shower, the nauseating smell of urine and vomit from the alley permeated his clothes and onto his skin. He went willingly, loathing the smell too.

"You remember the date, doncha?" I asked in a low tone.

Soda finished taping me and went back to hover by the half closed bathroom door. It was Pony's unfortunate habit to run the shower with the hot water cranked too high. Usually he got out before he overheated, but I wasn't so sure he'd listen to his internal sensors tonight.

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Of _course_ I remember. You guys... uh, you guys okay?"

"I'm thirsty, Darry, you wanna listen out while Steve and I get a drink?"

_Subtle, Soda. Very subtle._ I rolled my eyes and went over to the bathroom, calling into the open doorway. "Ponyboy, come on. You should be clean by now. Those cuts won't stop bleeding if you keep them wet."

"I know. I'm getting out. Close the door for me, will ya?"

"Sure, just don't fall." Considering how badly the bruises and swelling were worsening around his eyes, it was just another reason for concern. I shut the door as Steve and Soda headed to the kitchen. I heard bits and pieces of the story drift my way as Soda recounted the nuts and bolts of it for Steve.

"_...disappeared … looked everywhere ... heard a scuffle ... three soc's pounding on him ... had a blade.... one took off...."_

I didn't want to hear it. _Living _it was bad enough. Why the personal vendetta against Ponyboy... I couldn't fathom. I pulled on a fresh shirt, my arms sore from the bashing I gave that guy and my chest still tingling from the cut I'd gotten via his switch. I was sure, wherever he was tonight, he was hurting worse than me. I only hoped I'd left him in some capacity resembling Ponyboy. That would only be fair.

He came out of the bathroom wearing only the sweat pants he'd taken in with him, and wordlessly I shook my head, shocked at what I saw. All his injuries from the fight days ago at school were back, and as expected, worse. From a distance, his face resembled a raccoon's. I tore my eyes from his face a moment, gathering in what the rest of him looked like. He hadn't been this busted up since the rumble a year ago.

He had an assortment of bruises along his chest, a big bruise over his back and running maybe five inches down his right side was a still- weeping cut, similar to the one the same soc had given me. Blood still oozed from his wound, mixing with the finite dampness on his skin. The blood spread out, making the cut appear go grow gradually larger. Pressure would stop it. He'd have a small scar like the one I was sure to get, but otherwise wouldn't need stitches.

"Lay down on your left side, let me try to get that cut bandaged." I directed.

He went willingly, nestling down into the cushions tucking one arm under his head to lay on and the other moved out of the way. I bent over him, gently slathering on the antibiotic cream and watching his eyes for signs he was hurting. I bothered me that he wasn't saying much.

"It's superficial; for once you won't need to go to the hospital." I said to break the silence. I knew only too well how much he hated going there. "Gonna sting, though, for a few days while it heals. Don't scratch at it."

He simply nodded his head. I found a bandage large enough for it and taped it onto his skin, holding it down a bit to stop the bleeding.

"How's your head?"

"My skull is fine, Darry. It's my _face_ that hurts." The voice that came out of him didn't sound like him at all. He sounded strained, weary. Whatever energy was in him was gone. The fight tonight was just another cross to bear. The memories of last year had to be weighing him down, just as they did me. The only difference was, whereas I had to live with the pain, he was the one who'd experienced it firsthand. It was a burden he'd never get rid of. A burden I couldn't take from him.

Soda'd brought over ice packs for his face, a cup of water and a pill.

"What's that?" I asked as Pony swallowed the unknown medicine.

"The last of his pills from last summer. I figured he was hurting bad enough."

"Thanks, Soda." Pony garbled from under the ice.

"Welcome, Pony." Soda answered, smoothing back his damp hair.

"You wanna go on to bed?" I asked softly. "Those pills usually have you out a good ten hours straight."

He started to move his legs while pushing up with his left arm to get up, let out a soft moan and collapsed back down.

"No thanks. I'd rather stay here if no one minds."

"No, Pone. We don't mind." I flipped off the lamp, bathing him in semi-darkness. Soda turned on the radio to something soft and Steve draped the afghan hanging over the couch across him.

"Thanks." Came the barely audible response. He already sounded half asleep.

"No problem, kid." Steve answered.

I gave him another glance and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink and a Tylenol of my own and sit down. Soda and Steve followed me in, each wordlessly taking a seat at the table. I looked at the clock, nearly ten. A year ago to the hour I was working at the warehouse, looking forward to getting off at eleven. Soda and Steve were at the game with their girls. Pony was with Johnny and Dallas, well, he was _supposed_ to be with Dallas; and knowing the Double like I did, the movie would've been letting out sometime right about now. Knowing how slow Dally and Johnny walked, the forty-five minute trip home should still have had him home in plenty of time.

_Except_, Dallas had left, Two-Bit had shown up drunk, soc girls had caught their eye, and their boyfriends singled them out as targets for later. Like dominoes, one thing crashed onto the other, and here we were, a year later seemingly still fighting the same battle.

"Darry, what're you thinking?" Soda's voice broke into my thoughts.

Looking at my glass, I swirled the remaining liquid a few times then got up, draining it down the sink.

"Nothing, Soda. I wasn't thinking about anything. You in for the night?"

"Yeah. I ain't going anywhere."

"Good. I'm going to bed. Night, Steve."

XXX

"How bad was it?"

I looked at Steve with weary eyes.

"He was already down when we came around the corner, then I saw that soc take a slice at him. Darry called the one holding the knife, leaving me with the other one. The third one saw us coming and hightailed it of there."

I ran my fingers over my sore hand, the knuckles bruised from my many hammer punches delivered into various parts of that guys body. I'd have a black eye as well, but mine would be nothing compared to Pony's. I was genuinely worried about his eyes. He'd taken one heck of a beating.

"Ponyboy's okay, Sodapop. You can't be there every moment of his life. He's got to learn to take the lumps ..."

"There were _three_ of them, Steve! They could've killed him. Just like last year." I fought to keep my voice down. I looked over at Pony's sleeping form on the couch. He was bigger, stronger and better defined than last year, sure; and he'd held up better than either Darry or I expected, but he would always be my younger brother. This shouldn't have happened.

"I've held off three of them before." He reminded me.

"_You_ ain't Ponyboy."

"No kidding." He sneered.

"He could have been_ killed_, Steve." I said again more resolutely.

"I know." He barely whispered, admitting it at least to himself how bad this could have been.

I couldn't say anything for a while, thoughts stuck in my throat. "When is this gonna _end_? When they put him in a box too?" My hands shook some, I picked up the pepper shaker, spinning it around just to occupy my hands.

"That. Won't. Happen."

I wiped my eyes, trying to erase the mental picture that had taken root. Ponyboy wearing a brand new crisply ironed white button-up shirt beneath a black suit jacket, laying in a wooden box, silent; not moving, not breathing. Never again.

"Soda..." Steve's hands gestured out toward mine but I pulled back.

"I know." I wiped my eyes. They burned now, but I held back as best I could. "You uh, you need to stay here tonight?"

He looked at the couch, shaking his head. "Nah, looks like it'd be a bit crowded tonight anyway."

"Pony's out. I can get Darry to take him to his room, freeing the couch up."

"How much longer is Darry gonna be able to carry the kid around? He ain't exactly a pillow."

I smirked and heaved a shaky sigh, finally able to unclench and breathe again. Steve got up.

"Don't bother Muscles. Or the kid. Pop ain't on the warpath tonight, at least not yet. I'd better get on home before he does get riled up though. You need anything, Sodapop?"

I walked him to the door, both of us glancing at Ponyboy as he slept. Carefully, I removed the melting ice packs from his face, revealing his eyes. I could hardly see his lashes from the swelling. I almost started bawling again.

"No, I'm fine."

"Okay then, I'll see you in the morning."

XXX

"**DARRY! SODA!"**

The cries tore through the night, nearly catapulting me out of bed. An equally earsplitting crash and the unmistakable sound of glass breaking followed before the second syllable of Soda's name stopped resonating through the house.

"_**DAR**_**-RY!**

"Pony, I'm right here!" I called back nearly unhinging my door in the process of opening it. In almost two years, I'd heard him scream in just about every way possible. I'd heard laughter, I'd heard panic, I'd heard nightmare. But _never _before had I heard pure terror coming from him.

"**SODA! _PLEASE!"_**

How could a simple hallway be this long? I smacked the light switch, instantly flooding the living room in a blinding bright light.

"Ponyboy, what is it? What's wrong?" I called as I came to a sudden halt.

I grabbed Soda just as he was about to fly past me. If he'd done so, he'd have sliced his bare feet to ribbons. Glass coated the floor. The large mirror had fallen off the wall somehow, and Pony was standing in the middle of a sea of shards.

As soon as he heard my voice, Ponyboy turned to me, reaching out with both hands as if he were trying to feel for me. He took a single step forward with bare feet, setting his foot down right into a carpet of raw glass. Absolute terror gripped his bruised and swollen face. Pain wasn't far behind.

"Pony, STOP! Just stay still." I commanded.

"Hold on, Pony. I'm coming. Just don't move._ Please_, honey, just don't move."

Soda had found some shoes ahead of me and slid them on, then stepped into the glass and took Pony's outstretched hand. The moment Soda touched him, Pony pulled Soda to him as if he were drowning in a lake and Soda was a life preserver.

"What is it, Pony? What's wrong?"

"I can't see!" His voice was torn between a sob and a shriek. The pain pill mixed with everything else going on in his head must've had him all confused.

"You're eyes are too swollen, Pony, that's all."

"No... I - I _can't see_! Nothing! It's all black! What's happened? Why?"

"Pone, calm down." Soda cooed. It didn't help like it usually did. By then I'd found some shoes and was at his side as well.

"Put your arms around my neck, Pone." He did and I lifted him, carrying him to the kitchen and sat him in a chair. "Soda, get a large basin half filled with warm water. Pony, stay still before you shred your feet worse. You've got glass in them."

"But Darry..."

I put my hand to the back of his head, rubbing it softly. Tears were rolling down his face; he truly was terrified.

"Lil' Colt, just give me a chance, okay. I promise, you're gonna be fine."

He grabbed my arm between his hands, holding them tighter than he'd ever held them. While Soda was off getting the basin, I looked at Pony's face. His eyes were so swollen that I wasn't surprised he couldn't see. The bruising had evened out, now he had a solid blackish-blue streak going straight across from one side of his face to the other. His fear was palpable.

"Promise?" He choked.

"Yeah, Pone, I promise. Now hold still. I'll be right back."

"NO! Don't leave!"

"I'm not leaving, I'm right here. I just gotta get something. I'm right here." I found a flashlight in a drawer and flipped off the kitchen lights, then kneeled in front of him. I slowly waved the light in front of his eyes, one eye at a time while forcing each swollen lid back.

"Oww," he moaned, pulling away some.

"Sorry, Pone. Bear with me. Do you see anything?"

He nodded, a faint ripple of relief taking the edge off his voice. "A light. It hurts."

I got up and smiled, rubbing his hair softly. "You're going to be fine. Relax, Pone. It's okay." I felt him nod again but knew he wasn't totally convinced yet.

Soda came back with the basin and carefully we lifted Pony's feet into the water. I watched as it turned pink like cherry kool-aid. Most of the slivers floated off his feet, and with a pair of tweezers, I got the rest off. He had a few minor cuts, but they'd heal, just like the rest of him. Throughout, his tears never stopped. Soda'd leaned against him from behind, wrapping his arms around him with Pony braiding his arms around Soda's.

"When will I see again?" He asked. I could tell just by looking at him how hard he was trying to hold his emotions in check.

I really had no idea. The swelling was pretty bad, the worst I'd seen among any of the gang from any fight we'd ever been in. "The swelling should be down by Monday. If not, then we'll go back to the ophthalmologist and get you checked out."

"Monday?" His fear returned. He'd gone about an hour now - blind. A whole day still lay before him."

"Pony, I want you staying with me tonight. You don't need to be alone. What happened to the mirror, anyway?" Soda asked.

"I stumbled when I got up. I'd forgotten I wasn't in my room and ran smack into it. I'm sorry, I know...." His voice trailed off. His adrenaline was wearing off. It was nearly three in the morning, that pill was still plundering through his system.

"You know ... _what,_ Pone?" I coaxed.

"It was mom's." Tears dripped onto his face again. "I didn't mean to break it." Oh yeah, that _was_ Mom's mirror. We'd had it for so long, I'd forgotten.

"It's okay. We've all broken something around here. She didn't like that mirror anyway. Don't sweat it. Here, hold onto me." Once again, he wrapped his arms around my neck and I lifted him, carrying him back to Soda's room and gently depositing him back on his old side of the bed. He lay back against the mattress and curled up as Soda brought in his pillow from his room. Soda put his arm around him, and as reflexive and natural as swallowing, Pony curled back into Soda's chest. Their bond had never weakened.

"You're gonna be fine, Pone. I promise. You'll see."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	9. Sightless

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 9

**Sightless**

XXX

From the warmth of the sunshine on my face, I knew I was on the east side of the house, the familiar lump in the mattress confirming I was in Soda's bed. I didn't think I would be back here again, but I didn't mind. This was one of the few places I felt totally safe. I touched the area behind me where Soda would've been even though I knew he wasn't there. The bed was too even, the mattress not bowed from the weight of another person.

"Soda?" I whispered, but got no answer. I took a moment as I sat there shaking, trying to calm down; feeling lost in a sea of blackness. I convinced myself that there wasn't a reason to be so frightened, aside from being blind. This was my home, afterall.

My eyes wouldn't open. Only a sliver of light managed between my lids. I remember with acute intensity everything that had happened last night; my disorientation after waking up with a severe need to pee, the pain in my side and intense body ache making me forget that I wasn't in my room. In my head, I was walking the same route from my bedroom to the bathroom. Then I slammed into the wall, dislodging the mirror and hearing it explode at my feet. That's when I _really_ tried to open my eyes but couldn't. They wouldn't budge, scaring me to death. I wasn't even sure I was still in my own house! Panic set in, and I'd started screaming.

Listening intently now, I heard voices coming through the wall. They were muffled, lower than what I would have heard if I were in my own room. I recognized Two-Bit's familiar pitch easily, but there was another pitch, a lower, huskier one present as well. It wasn't Steve's. I thought about it, listening harder. _Tim's._ It was Tim's voice. I wondered what he was doing here.

XXX

"So anyway, he disappeared on us. I looked around after those girls drove off and he wasn't there. Soda checked in the Burger Pit, I went to the Nickel And Dime, but neither of us found him. We were headed back to get the truck when Soda heard something down the alley. Sure enough, there he was, getting pounded on by three soc's. I swear, my heart nearly stopped when I saw that blade going at him."

"He wasn't stabbed though, right?" Tim's eyes had narrowed.

I shook my head. "No. Sliced up close to his ribs, but nothing needing a doc. It was close, too close. No, his face is what took it. Nearly all of it."

"You said he's got a solid ribbon of blue going across his face?" Two-Bit was obviously having a hard time picturing it.

"Yeah. The bruising is bad. Worse than I've ever seen. The swelling too. It's so bad his eyes are swollen shut. I'm gonna keep him out of school tomorrow, but if it ain't better after Monday night, I'm gonna take him back to the ophthalmologist."

"It's that bad?" Two-Bit was starting to get it. I don't part with money easy, and specialists like eye doctors cost a lot.

"Yeah, Two-Bit, it's that bad."

"Any idea who's behind this new onslaught?" Tim wanted to know. I shook my head.

"Those soc's never let up. It _was _the anniversary of Bob Sheldon's death. I should've known better than to take Ponyboy out. He'd been moping around the house all week, though. I knew he was wallowing in it, and I just wanted to get his mind off what had happened. I thought, between Soda and myself, there couldn't be any possible harm. We should've been able to keep him safe."

"But the kid's okay now?" Tim pressed.

I shrugged. "That pill Soda'd given him should wear off soon. I'm surprised he even woke up last night. He's never woken up with one of those pills in his system before. Scared Soda and me to death. Thought Pony was gonna slice his feet into hamburger with all that glass on the floor. As it is, he's got some minor cuts that won't take long to heal. For once, thank God, his head wasn't busted. It's just going to take time for the swelling to go away."

XXX

I'd been feeling my way up the hall but had bumped into something with my bandaged foot, the pain making me suck in air. Everything was super sore and tender, the littlest bump feeling like a fresh whallop. Their voices stopped suddenly and I heard chairs scratch the floor.

"Afternoon, Ponyboy," came Tim's husky voice, followed by Two-Bit's overly cheerful falsetto.

"Morning, sunshine!"

I felt a presence next to me and Darry's words were suddenly there too.

"How ya feeling, Pone?"

"I'm good. Thanks. Hey Two-Bit, Tim. What brings you over to the wild side?"

"Heard there was some action. I make it my business to know what's going on."

Darry took one of my hands and led me the few feet to the table, where my fingers brushed the top edge of the dining room chair. I could see it in my mind, dark wooden chairback with a carved dogwood flowering along the inside top edge. The matching table should be about ten inches below the top edge of the chair, my hand reached for where it should be and found it. I pulled the chair out and sat down. In my head I could picture the layout of the room. It dawned on me then that as long as no one moved the furniture or left clutter on the floor, I should be fine. Fine, as long as I didn't have to do anything.

Silence filled the room. A very uncomfortable silence.

"Is it that bad?" I finally had to ask.

"You look like hell, kid."

"Tim!" came Darry's quick admonishment.

"Well, Ponyboy, just be thankful it ain't time for school pictures," was Two-Bit's less ominous answer.

I smiled. "It's a face only a mother could love."

"Ponyboy!"

I couldn't help grinning wider. Chuckles came from two people on my left and Darry apparently let it go a second later.

"Let me see your face, Ponyboy," Darry said. I turned in his direction and felt his familiar fingertips under my chin, turning my head slightly one way then the other. "Still swollen. Better, but swollen." Like I didn't know that.

"At least he's got a good sense of humor." Tim's voice rang out. I heard a chair move and suddenly another finger was under my chin, unfamiliar and insistent, forcing my face up and over. I didn't like people touching me, not when I couldn't see them, and instinctively jerked back. "Sorry kid. Yup, that's one doozy of a black eye. Both of them at once. Damn.

"Darrel, I'll have my guys working the halls. It should help. Call me if you need something. Bye kid. Later, Mathews."

"See ya, Tim." Two-Bit and I echoed each other.

Something smelling good was suddenly under my nose as I heard the typical clatter of a plate being set down in front of me. Darry touched my hand with the cold metallic handle of the fork.

"Juice is at your eleven. It's hash and eggs. Need help?"

"No. I can manage. Any toast?"

"I'll get it." Two-Bit's voice faded to the kitchen as I cautiously felt around the lip of the plate. One forkful at a time made it past my lips, feeling the fingers of my left hand getting messier with each mouthful. "Here ya go." I heard another plate get put down, and I turned my head, trying to pinpoint where it was by the location of the sound.

"It's at twelve, Pone." Darry offered. I found it and smiled some.

"Thanks."

Halfway through, I realized that they were still there, obviously watching me. I was starting to feel like some sideshow freak. "I'm sure there's gotta be something on television much more interesting to watch than me eating... what is this anyway, breakfast or lunch?"

"Sorry, kid."

"You may as well call this lunch. It's going on eleven anyway. You gotta be in pain. What's hurting ya the most?"

"Well," I said munching on the toast, "my face hurts. My jaw is sore, my side stings and my feet, well, they sting too. Everything else is just plain ole' sore. No worse than if I had run a half marathon though. I take it all the glass is up?"

"Yeah. You slept right through the vacuum cleaner going. You're out of those pills now, so all I have are regular Tylenol. Think that can hold you or do you want to go to the doctor?"

I wasn't sure if plain Tylenol would hold me or not, but I sure didn't want to go to the hospital. I didn't feel bad enough for that yet. "They'll have to."

I scraped my plate, but felt no further resistance against my fork. "Shall I do dishes?"

"Funny, Ponyboy. No. I'll take care of it." The chair next to me scratched the floor as Darry got up. I waited a few seconds, feeling the familiar callings of my insides getting more and more urgent, knowing all the while I was going to eventually have to take care of it. Finally I got up and felt along the wall, feeling for the doorjam leading to the bathroom.

"Uh, kid, you want Darry to help ya?"

"That mean you're not volunteering?" I said with an evil smile.

"Kid, uh, that would be a … no. Sorry. Hey Darry!"

I chuckled. "Stop it, Two-Bit, I'm not an infant."

"You need help in there, Pony?" Darry asked with more solemn concern.

I shook my head. "No, I'll manage." I went in and shut the door, locking it behind me.

XXX

"He seems to be taking this better than I thought." Two-Bit whispered as he carried Pony's plates to the sink after Pony'd closed the door. "Maybe this won't be so bad."

He was right, Ponyboy _was_ taking this better than I expected. Especially after the panic he showed last night. Still, I felt discouraged, like I'd let him down somehow. "Yeah, maybe … or maybe not. We'll see."

"You going to work tomorrow?"

I sighed, still not knowing what I was going to do. I was already behind at work, the boss wanting me to go in as one guy was already out after falling off a roof and messing up his leg, and another had his own family emergency. A new baby. Brand new baby. Poor sap.

"I _have_ to. I already called the eye doctor. He's gonna see Pony on Tuesday."

"I thought you were gonna wait to see if the swelling goes down."

"I was, I mean I _am._ The doc said he'd see Pony if I felt the need to bring him in. If that swelling doesn't go down, he's going. I'd rather be safe and broke than sorry."

The toilet flushed, tap water ran then the door opened as Pony came out. Two-Bit and I watched as he carefully limped his way to the front door. Two-Bit was gonna say something, but I put my hand out to silence him. I wanted to watch what he was going to do.

He opened the door and went outside, stepping carefully onto the porch, holding onto the door as he felt for the railing. Once he had the railing, the let go of the door and let it close behind him. For a good five minutes, he just stood there in the cool early afternoon breeze.

I wished I could read his mind, know what he was thinking. Know how he was feeling. Soda always said Pony was easy to read, but to me it seemed at times he was written in a different language. A language I struggled to understand and never could. Soda did. I was grateful they had each other.

"You gonna remind him he ain't wearing anything but sweat pants?" Two-Bit whispered.

I shook my head. As heightened as Pony's senses were right now, I was sure he already knew it.

XXX

I came home to hear the piano being played. Chords and melodies flowed all the way out to the sidewalk, and there was only one musician in the family - maybe on the whole of the East side - who could play like that. As I stepped on the porch, though, I saw Darry on the old ragtag bench we had off to the side. He had his finger pressed to his lips and motioned for me to come join him.

"What's going on?" I asked quietly as I sat down next to him.

"He's been playing for about ten minutes or so. I've been sitting out here listening."

"The swelling gone?"

"Nope. It's down, but not gone."

"Then how..."

"Lets just say, it's been one heck of an interesting day around here."

I wasn't sure how to take that. I fully expected to come home to a mess. "Huh?"

"Close your eyes and keep them shut." Darry instructed. I had no clue what he was getting at. "Humor me and just do it."

I gave him a look, but did it.

"Now, what do you hear?"

"The same things I hear with my eyes open." I said sarcastically. I opened my eyes and looked at him, expecting something better of an answer. He shook his head. "What's been going on around here? He doing okay?"

"He's doing fine, better than I expected. He's slept off and on throughout the day, but when he's awake, he's managed to take care of himself without much help from me. "

"Even....?" My pause said more than words did. Darry understood.

"Yep. Even that. Without help. I offered, but he managed just fine alone."

I was glad. That was the one thing I wasn't sure how we'd handle.

Darry looked at his watch. "He's been awake now about an hour. Since he can't read, I guess he was bored enough to play his piano. He thinks I'm out cleaning the truck. He was getting rather tired of me hovering. I tried not to, but couldn't help it half the time. And I wasn't hovering to _help,_ necessarily. I was actually in awe watching him just going about his business blind. He even folded clothes."

At that, I had to laugh. The playing stopped and Darry held up his hand to silence me. Pony paused for nearly a minute, then started up again, this time more subtly.

"Folded clothes? Really?"

Darry nodded, an impressed grin on his face. "Yep. He'd asked for something to do after lunch, something to keep his hands busy. Not like I could have him cleaning the bathroom in his state. It was his idea. He heard the buzzer go off on the dryer and asked for the laundry to fold. For the most part, he did rather well. I watched him, trying to figure out _how_ he was doing it. I think I got it. He kept sliding his fingers along the waistband, even belt looped jeans went in one pile, odd went into another. Your workpants have a texture different than denim, and his jeans have the smallest waist circumference. Rather ingenious to me, how he did it."

"I know you're home, Soda." His voice rose above the piano as he played.

"I told you," Darry said as he got up, "it's been one heck of an interesting day."

"Did he cook dinner too?"

"No, but to be honest, I wouldn't doubt that he could."

XXX

"Can you see _anything_, Ponyboy?"

Soda was dumbfounded at how I played the piano. He'd asked me half a dozen times, but my answer was always the same. By _touch_, not _sight._ I'd even shown him, but I still think he thinks I'm somehow tricking him. I really couldn't see anything. Nothing of consequence, anyway. "Light. Blurred images. Nothing tangible. I guess I ain't going to school in the morning."

"Nope. You get another day out, and – you're gonna have to be by yourself for most of it. Think you can handle it?" Darry was checking out my feet, slapping more medicated cream to the cuts and rebandaging them. He'd already slathered stuff on my side and put a new bandage on it as well. I was sort of glad I could skip tomorrow. I was still sore, although much better than I felt this morning. Now I was just mentally tired. My senses of smell, hearing and touch had been on full alert all day. Especially hearing. I had to hear everything to know where I was and what was coming. The effort to be so attentive was actually tiring. What Darry'd said got my attention quick though.

"Really? No sitter?"

"I've watched you all day long. Aside from not getting the shirts right, you seemed to do fine. I can call out if you need me to, just say the word."

"No, I'll be fine. Thanks, Darry."

"Don't thank me yet. Soda's gonna be calling and Steve's gonna bring you lunch. I don't want you in here cooking. Not even toast. Got me?"

I should have known there'd be some drawbacks. "Yeah, no cooking."

"Sit around, listen to the TV or radio, sleep, play a symphony … I don't care. But you'd better stay in the house and close to the phone."

"I will."

I could feel Darry's apprehension. "You'd better."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

Meaningful reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks to everyone reading my work!


	10. Three Times To Bed

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 10

**Three Times To Bed**

XXX

"Pone, c'mon, you gotta get up."

"Darry said I could sleep in." I moaned in protest. "Why are you waking me up?"

"Cause, Darry wants you up just to check on you. Come on, Ponyboy, I'm tired too, but I'm gonna be late for work if you don't hurry up."

"Can't he check on me while I sleep?" I grumbled as I sat up, feeling my face for the swelling. It'd gone down more over night, leaving the bruising just that more tender. I didn't need a mirror to see that. Not that I could see. Or to put it a better way, not that I could see _clearly._ More of my vision _had _come back, but it was all a blurry mess. That, and they itched.

"Pony? Oh good, you're awake." Now it was Darry in here to torture me as Soda had left the room. "Come on, get up and in the shower then out so I can go."

_Uuugghhh_. "Darry, I'm fifteen! I can shower without help!"

"Glad to hear it. Now, get in there while I get your breakfast made. I got to go in ten minutes, and I don't want you making me late. Now lets go!"

I got up and made my way out of Soda's room. I'd slept in his room again last night because Soda was worried I'd somehow do a repeat of the disoriented-shattering-of-glass incident. I had to admit, it was nice huddling under Soda's arm again, having our late night whispered talks. I'd missed them, more than I realized. I think we'd stayed up until way past midnight giggling about anything and everything. Eventually it _had_ become everything, we were both so tired that nothing made sense, which made both of us laugh even more.

I ripped the bandage off my cut along my side, feeling a layer of skin go with it. I couldn't see the type of tape Darry was using to hold it, but it wasn't anything less powerful than duct tape. It smarted my skin worse than the cut.

I was rushed in then out of the shower so fast I hardly think I got wet. Once done, I wrapped a towel around myself and headed for my room, feeling along the furniture and walls the whole way. The house sounded full of people, and ordinarily I would've been very reluctant to just walk around like that, but for once I didn't care. As expected, silence erupted as soon as I came into the room. Hushed whispers followed as soon as I left.

I made it back to my room and dressed, able to feel for the right jeans and a shirt to slide on. I glanced at my face in the mirror, everything a big blur but clear enough for me to get a better understanding of what everyone was whispering about. I looked like a freak that should be at the carnival. I sat on my bed, stunned.

"Pony,_ come on_, you...." Darry stopped. I guess my expression got his attention. "Ponyboy, what's wrong?" He unexpectedly sat next to me, his hand patting my knee twice then resting there. "What is it?"

"I look horrible."

He sighed. "You haven't looked this beaten in a long while, granted, but kiddo, the swelling is mostly gone, the bruises will fade and you _will_ look like you again. Matter of fact," I felt his finger lightly brush the skin just under my nose, "I think you will look like _you_ - with a little added_ fuzz."_

"Huh?" I felt my lip too and felt the coarseness of the usually smooth hair there too. "No way!"

He chuckled then I felt his arm go around my shoulder, giving me a small hug. "Oh, if Dad could see you now. Welcome to growing up, Ponyboy." I could hear the subtle glee in his voice.

I felt my lip again, wishing I could see it clearly.

"Don't go rubbing it too hard, it might fall out. Seriously though, it ain't to the point that you need to shave it" He stopped suddenly, as if something occurred to him. "Damn, I shouldn't have said anything while you're like this. Ponyboy, _please_ - don't even try shaving until you can at least_ see_ what you're doing. I'll help you - show you how; or...," his voice dropped noticeably, "Soda can do it. Whomever you choose."

"Why can't it be both of you?" I asked carefully. Granted, this was my face, but this was just as important for me as it was for them. He gripped my shoulder harder then let go. I guess I'd said the right thing.

"Thanks, Ponyboy." he whispered. "Now," he got up pulling me with him, "come on and eat breakfast. I'm out of time and I really do have to go. Just leave your dishes in the sink, or on the table if you can't see well enough to do that. Soda's gonna call you a few times so you'd better be here to answer."

"I will. Stop worrying. I'm fine."

I sat at the table and he gave me a bowl of cereal with toast to eat and a large glass of juice to wash it down with. In a blur of blue, Soda went running past wearing his work clothes while Steve and Two-Bit headed out the door.

Various forms of "Bye, Ponyboy," were hurled at me, to which I hollered back the reciprocal response until there was no noise except the munching of food in my mouth.

XXX

The house was very still. I'd slowly managed my way around, trying to pick up stuff left laying on counters and on various pieces of furniture and get it back to where it was supposed to go. I'd even done my own dishes, fighting my blurry eyes to work. I tried on my glasses hoping they would improve things and they did – to an extent. But everything stayed fuzzy. My eyes kept feeling goopy and itchy, despite how many times I washed my face with warm water.

I was getting a headache from trying to focus so much and finally felt for the bottle of Tylenol in the kitchen and swallowed one. It had to have been Tylenol; it's the only oblong bottle with the red label. Everything else had a blue or green label. In any case, my headache and body aches started to go away not long after that.

I went to lay down, sleeping in my room again. I was almost asleep when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"_Hey Pone. How ya feeling?"_

"Oh hey, Soda. Good. How's work?"

"_Same. Oil changes, flat tires. Dead batteries. Exciting stuff, huh?"_

I smiled. "If you say so."

"_Don't forget, Steve's supposed to bring you lunch, so no cooking. Rats! Someone just pulled in. I gotta go. I'll call ya later. Bye!"_

The phone went dead. I slid the receiver back on the cradle and felt my way back to bed.

XXX

"Hey kid. Ponyboy. Wake up."

I woke with a start, once again trying to get my uncooperative eyes to work. It was better, I could make out faces at least. Standing over me were Steve and Two-Bit.

"What?" I asked, pulling myself up.

"Room service." Two-Bit answered.

I sat up on the side of my bed, not getting up right away. I needed an outside opinion. Darry and Soda wouldn't be quite as straight with the truth as Steve would. He'd be brutal, but honest. "Tell me the truth. No bullshitting or playing around. How do I look?"

They both laughed.

"Kid, _what _did you _take_?" Steve wondered aloud.

"No, I'm serious. I ain't wondering if I look like Soda or nothing like that, but do I really look _bad_?"

They got quiet.

"It's getting better." Steve gave up.

"That wasn't what I asked. Tell me the truth. I can take it."

"Ponyboy, the bruising is scary." Two-Bit finally answered. "It goes from ear to ear across your face. On one side was the bruising you got from the beating at school, and on the other was from the fight in the alley. But in all honesty, it really has gotten a whole lot better."

"You're a tough kid. Don't sweat it." Steve's answer was more a summary than an answer, but I knew it was all I was gonna get.

"Thanks" I mumbled. "What's for lunch?" I got up and followed them to the kitchen, Two-Bit grabbing me a Pepsi from the fridge.

"Barbecue sandwiches with slaw from the Barbecue Pit. You didn't think we were actually gonna go to a lot of trouble, did you?" Steve drawled as he sat one down in front of me. They each had one too.

"Naw," I said feeling a smile creeping up. "Thanks. What's going on at school?"

"Honestly kid, you've got to be the only greaser on the East side who gives a hang about school." Steve choked out. "But since you asked, nothing much. Classes, girls in short skirts; hey - they pulled in an old 1950 Plymouth for us to work on in Mechanics. Come over and look at it when you get back."

"I will. Sounds tuff."

For a few minutes, we sat at the table and ate. Then Steve balled his wrapper into a ball and I blurringly watched as he tossed it at Two-Bit in play.

"Well, we've done our duty. We brought you food and made sure you haven't burned the house down."

I inadvertently dropped my sandwich as the date and his words triggered something in my mind.

_Fire. The church_. _A red hell._

I couldn't help visibly shaking as a shiver ran down my body.

"Great going, Steve." Two-Bit said icily. "You okay, Pony?"

I nodded, slowly at first then more assuredly. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks for lunch."

"Sorry kid. I didn't mean it that way."

Steve's tone was apologetic, but I really had lost my appetite. I put my sandwich down and carefully wrapped it back up in the paper. Maybe I'd eat it later. My headache had returned and I was eager for them to leave so I could go lay back down.

"I know. It's okay."

"You want me to hang here, Pony? I can ditch the afternoon. Shoot, I forgot what my classes are in the afternoon anyway." Two-Bit was reaching for straws.

"No. You'd better get back to school. You know you gotta pass this year if you have any hope of graduating. I don't want you failing on account of me. Go on, both of you. I'm just gonna go lay down and sleep anyway."

An uncomfortable silence settled again, then I got up, feeling my way back to my room.

"Bye, Pone. We'll check on you later."

"See ya, kid."

I shut my door and heard muffled whispers mix with the chairs scraping the floor.

"_Good going, Steve."_

"_Shut up, Two-Bit. You know I didn't mean it. Not like that."_

I knew he didn't mean it. It didn't stop the flow of memories though. They permeated my consciousness and seeped into my dreams. There was nothing I could do to shut it off. Until Soda or Darry made it home, I was left alone to remember my past. Remember, regret and remorse for all the events of a year ago.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	11. Goodbye's

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 11

**Goodbyes**

XXX

"Ya think he's asleep?" Darry whispered. Even across the room and through the door I could hear his worry.

"Might be. Just leave him alone." Soda's equally concerned undertone bounced back.

"Fine, fine." Footsteps softened as Darry crept away from my door.

I wasn't asleep. I'd been laying here for hours, wanting sleep. Craving it's peace, if it indeed had any for me, but it wouldn't come. Maybe that was better. Awake, I could control my thoughts to some extent. Asleep, I was a slave to them.

My sight had returned. Darry had taken me to the eye doctor Tuesday, who gave me drops for a minor infection that the swelling had caused. That's where the itching and the goopiness were coming from. The swelling went down even more with the drops, and the bruises were now just ugly fading yellow splotches across my cheeks. Visible reminders of yet another bad week in September. Since I could see again, I had no reason to miss any more school, and was actually relieved to go back Wednesday.

I didn't know what to expect, but I kept noticing a lot more greasers than normal around the upper level classrooms. No one started anything and I kept to myself. Two-Bit came around to my locker a bit more than usual, and Steve was usually out in front of the gym just before I went to PE.

It was sort of coincidental when two soc's passed me in the hall, each looking like they'd been through the ringer and back again. They seemed familiar, but I hadn't had any classes with either of them that I knew of - either this year or any year in the past. They passed me once and that was it. I haven't seen either of them since.

The rest of the week was once again catch-up time, leaving me little more to do besides the many pages of homework and non-stop studying for upcoming tests. Darry and Soda even let me off kitchen detail. Wednesday, I managed to make it to track practice, but coach took one look at me and waved me off.

"Come back on Friday, Curtis," was all he said. Two-Bit was going to wait for me on the bleachers, but didn't even have time to fall asleep before I loped over and told him I'd been excused.

I did everything I could to stay busy. I purposefully was keeping my own mind so occupied I wouldn't have time to think. Or dream. At least, that was my plan. It didn't work out quite so well. So far, I'd failed every night this week.

The dreams were tame in comparison to others in my past; at least no one had to come running in to rescue me from myself. Maybe I'd just gotten better at managing them, cause they sure wouldn't go away. Both Soda and Darry seemed disappointed that I'd returned to my own room, but I felt it was the best thing to do.

I had to get over this vulnerable feeling I couldn't shake. That and the little issue of a fifteen year old sleeping with an almost eighteen year old. Despite my confidence I could handle my bad dreams, it didn't stop the nightmares from happening. Every night I'd jerked awake, covered in sweat and feeling panicked, looking around wildly and gulping air until I recognized my surroundings. Then I'd lay back and work on my breathing, forcing myself to calm down.

But tonight I was scared to even close my eyes. No amount of concentration, no degree of reassurance would make this night better. A year ago _exactly_, I'd stood at Johnny's side and watched as his life ended. Less than two hours later, I'd watch Dallas's life come to a shattering halt as well.

My mind would not shut off the film. It ran over and over and over..... in a never ending catastrophic loop. Johnny's weak, fading voice mingled with Dallas's anguishing last call to me as he stumbled and fell, his life over before he hit the pavement.

"_Stay Gold." _"Ponyboy!_" "Stay Gold._" "Ponyboy!"

Their voices mired together in nauseating swirls that wouldn't stop. My stomach turned. I bolted from the bed and collapsed with my head hovering over the toilet as dinner made an unscheduled return the wrong way.

My shoulders shook from sobs that I wouldn't let come. Sweat poured in rivulets all over my body. My fingers clenched the white porcelain with strength enough to break it. Why it hadn't shattered yet was beyond me.

Strong arms suddenly surrounded me. A warm hand held my forehead as other fingers pried my hands from the toilet. From both sides, a comforting embrace held me, slightly rocking me.

"Let it out, Pone. It's okay. We miss them too."

That was all it took. Sobs that sounded more like shrieks poured forth. My entire frame convulsed from the emotion I'd been holding in. Tears flowed as free as a waterfall and I didn't care who saw. The strength to stop was more than I possessed.

They both held me, comfortably sandwiched between them, one hand rubbing soft circles on my back as another gently raked my hair. My sobs eventually softened to cries, which further dissipated into a hesitant, teary silence.

"Ponyboy? You okay now, honey?" Soda asked as he finally pulled away some to look at me.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Soda helped me to my feet and guided me to the couch. Darry joined a moment later with a warm wet cloth that he wiped my face and hands with. He wrapped me in the afghan that was always draped over the couch and sat on my other side. In silence, the three of us sat there. Tears randomly fell down my cheeks again, but the spasmodic heaving didn't return. It was over, for now. I had let it go.

XXX

The basketball tryouts were today. Coach had asked me at track practice if I was going to do it, and he seemed pleased that I said yes. Trying out wouldn't cost anything. I wouldn't need any special shoes for it or have to buy a jersey. I don't know why I was so nervous, I didn't expect to make the team.

Two-Bit wasn't allowed in the gym for the closed practice, so he slipped off and said he'd be back in an hour. For that hour, Coach had us do just about everything. We ran drills, practiced our three point shots and free throws, then just ran full court press. It was just as taxing as track, but with contact. I'd gotten the definition of 'nudging' demonstrated to me many times. The only thought that kept running through my head was that Darry'd wanted me to go out for football! Well, at least with _that_ sport, you did get to wear knee pads, shoulder pads and a helmet. With basketball, all I had was my jock strap. I was plenty thankful for that!

"Good workout, boys. Great job! Results will be posted Monday."

I pulled on my sweats, grabbed my books and headed for the door, hoping Two-Bit had remembered he was my ride home.

"Well, how'd it go?"

I sank in the seat. "Good, I guess. Won't know until Monday. Doubt I made it. It's a lot more work than track. Besides, I don't want to cost Darry anymore dough in shoes and jerseys than I already have."

"Aww kid, you know he'd love to see you out there on the hardwood."

"Mhh hmm." I only nodded. I was surprised how tired I was, and I still had to go do my homework and cook dinner.

"What kinda plans you and Darry got for Soda's birthday?"

Oh yeah, that was coming up. "Dunno. Haven't talked about it. Maybe pizza. Maybe take him to the burger joint. Why?"

"Cause I love a party! Darry still ain't gonna release him to go to Bucks? He sure can throw one hell of a party!"

I smiled. "Not as long as Buck rents rooms by the hour while the booze flows downstairs."

"Now that just ain't fair. Ole Buck ain't running a brothel. Most of those rooms are for long- term renters anyway. Darry knows that. Even Dal had one."

My smile faded. I remembered Dal's room. I could still see its layout in my head.

"Sorry, kid." Two-Bit muttered.

I shook the vision from my mind. "No big deal. But I doubt Darry's ever gonna be willing for either me or Soda to just casually be there. Give Buck a hello for me though next time you grace his doorstep."

Two-Bit pulled up and I got out. "Shoot kid. Believe it or not, I ain't there all that often either."

I headed inside, pulling out some beef to thaw as I headed for the shower. After that I worked on my homework. Around five, I started dinner. The routine was boring. Every now and then my thoughts broke away from schoolwork and basketball to think about Mrs. Nixon and Alex, and of course Linda. It was when I was alone with nothing real to think about that I thought about her. Every time I did, I felt an odd flutter in my chest. I wondered if she was seeing anyone now.

_Concentrate, Ponyboy._ I muttered in my thoughts as the hamburger started to burn. Once it was browned, I added the spice packet, tossed in half a can of refried beans, half the salsa and let it simmer while I diced the tomatoes and cut up the lettuce.

"Ponyboy? I'm home." Darry's voice startled me, sending lettuce flying across the counter.

He laughed. "Where's your head at, huh, Pone? Did you forget I said I'd be in before six?"

"No," I gathered the wayward lettuce and tossed it in a bowl. "Just didn't hear you was all. How was work?"

"Work? Not bad. Same shingle, different day. I'm going to be doing some carpentry work next week, a break from the tedium. Can't wait."

"What are we doing for Soda's birthday?" Figured now was a good time to ask, considering Soda wasn't here.

"Oh, I don't know yet. He's been wanting to go to the monster truck rally downtown they've been advertising on TV. I think that's the same week. You up for some loud engines and some heavy duty muscle cars?"

He asks not because he doesn't think I don't want to go see stuff like that; I do. He's just aware I haven't gone out with anyone except to the library since my night out on the strip that left me blind for a few days.

"Yeah," I nod. "Pizza before we go there?"

"No promises, little buddy, but I'll see what I can do. If the guys plan to come, they're gonna have to chip in."

"I'll tell Two-Bit to pass the word."

Footsteps sounded on the porch as Soda arrived. "Man, something smells good. Hey y'all."

"Hey Soda." Darry answered. I was busy burning my tongue, tasting the meat to see if it was ready. I snatched the drink Darry was holding right from his hands and downed it, trying to salvage some of my taste buds.

"Hey Pone, remember - if it's boiling.. that's probably a clue that it's too hot to taste."

Darry could be very sarcastic when he wanted to be. He reached into the counter and made himself a new drink.

It wasn't until the middle of dinner that Darry remembered the try-outs.

"How'd it go? Think you made the team?"

I shrugged. "Wont know until Monday. I just went for fun. I know we can't afford all the junk I'd need for basketball."

"Shoot, Pony. You make the team, _I'll _do the overtime."

I stared at Soda. "Since when did you get into sports?" I got another taco, filling it with more toppings than necessary and crunched down.

"I don't like to play them, but I do like to watch."

"Watch the _cheerleaders_, you mean." Darry added in a not so under-his-breath voice. We all laughed.

Soda turned a mild shade of red. "Well, _sure_ I like to watch the cheerleaders. Who wouldn't? Say, Ponyboy, they still wearing the red uniforms this year?"

"The team?" I asked not sure what he meant. He knew my jersey was teal and gold.

"No, the cheerleaders!" he clarified.

"Soda, I don't watch the cheerleaders." Okay, so I had peeked at them last week when they were running around in their skirts getting ready for the football pep rally. Admittedly, they were … _appealing_. Long legs, curvy hips, skinny, tanned.... Darry's slap on the tabletop brought me back.

"You back from your voyage to the great unknown?" Darry asked dryly.

"What?" I stammered.

"Yeah right. You expect me to believe you haven't noticed the cheerleaders yet? Pone, you were nearly drooling!" Soda was gonna choke if he laughed any harder. I felt my face burn as I knew I blushed.

"Well, maybe a little." I admitted. "Haven't seen any red uniforms though."

"Keep your eyes in your sockets, Ponyboy. Soda, you got dishes. Ponyboy, when you're done, meet me in my room." Darry got up and left his plate and glass by the sink, then headed off to his room at the far end of the hall.

"Great,_ now_ what?" I put my tableware with Darry's and followed him, wondering what I had done now. Soda followed wordlessly, a smile still across his face.

"You know what this is about?" I whispered.

He pushed my shoulder, propelling me forward. "Just go on."

I knocked as I went in. "Yeah, Dar?

Darry was sitting on his bed with a package wrapped up in green paper with a bow on it next to him. Soda leaned back against the wall, saying nothing but grinning.

"What's this?" It wasn't my birthday, heck, Soda's birthday was in a week. I didn't know what was going on.

"It's from me and Darry, Ponyboy. Open it."

I held the box, unsure. "But...."

"Open it." Darry insisted.

I pulled the lid off and looked inside. A brand new Gillette razor was in the box along with a can of shaving cream. I smiled. "Gee, guys. Um.. _thanks."_

Soda stepped to my side and put his arm over my shoulder. "We found ya a good one, Ponyboy. Before you start looking like Hitler, we'd better do something about those whiskers."

I felt the hairs under my nose, their coarseness tickling my lip.

"Soda and I shave in the mornings, keeps the five o'clock shadow at bay longer. However, it'll take a while before you'll need to worry about that. We'll show you tonight, if you want, how to shave. Every guy is different on how fast his hair grows. You'll have to judge for yourself how often you'll need to shave. All I ask is that you take your time while you're getting the hang of it. You'll look mighty strange if you cleave off your nose."

I laughed.

"Not that you won't have your fair share of nicks, but that's the price of growing up." Soda chuckled.

"Just one of the many price tags, Soda," Darry reminded him. "One of the many." They shared a glance I didn't understand, I guessed I was in for other stuff later.

Later, after I'd brushed my teeth, they both joined me in the bathroom, watching me figure out how much shaving cream was really necessary versus just too much. They coached me through setting the blade in the razor, how to hold it and how to handle it against my skin. I did get a nick, a small one that bled bright red for a minute.

"All part of the process, Ponyboy." Soda assured me as the shaving cream surrounding the cut turned pink.

When I was done, my face felt funny, but cooler. The cut had stopped bleeding. Finally, I sat my razor next to theirs on the ledge by the shower.

"Any questions?" Darry'd asked. I shook my head. He stood from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the tub and pulled my chin toward him, inspecting my lip.

"Good job, Ponyboy. Dad would've been proud. Now, I'm gonna go watch the news and go to bed." He patted my back and left. I looked at my lip again too. Interesting. Then I flipped off the bathroom light and headed to the couch to watch some television too.

"_Today in South East Asia_," the reporter said as footage of American soldiers crouched along a muddy path in single file formation played behind him, _"another thirty seven American troops lost their lives in more heavy fighting along the Quang Tri border. The President is requesting more troops to help assuage the continuing... "_

"Enough of that." Darry said as he flipped off the television in frustration. I sat there numb and not moving. Darry hesitated. "Don't think about it, Ponyboy. And don't watch that mess either. Come on. Time for bed."

I got up and went to my room. A hollow unsettledness filling my stomach, leaving me tense and worried.

"Night, Pone." Soda said in his regular, happy yet tired voice.

"Night, Sodapop." I said. "Hey Soda?" I called, leaning up on my elbow. My door creaked open again.

"Yeah?"

"I, uh... I love you."

He opened the door more and looked at me, a questioning look in his eyes. "I love you too, kiddo."

"G'night." I called to him again and laid back down. He closed the door and left me alone in silence.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	12. Blackmail

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 12

**Blackmail**

XXX

"Man, this is bullshit!"

"What's wrong now?" I glanced over Steve's shoulder to check out what he was reading on my way to the kitchen. There were two papers in his hand - one that was typed all official-like from our boss, and another in scribbled cursive. I had similar envelopes attached to my time card but had yet to read them. They were still folded up in my back pocket. We were at Steve's place while his pop was out. I was raiding his fridge for a change, tired of my own selection of cold cuts and mayo.

"Boss is requiring each of us to pull a shift at the West side DX," he answered.

"Ain't that the one getting robbed all the time?" I asked with some measure of alarm.

"Yeah. Any hood or bastard soc that robs in our side gets caught and dealt with, so they always go over to station 21 to pull a heist. Since Jeremy got shot, no one wants to work there."

"As if that's a surprise." I drawled.

"Well, boss wants.. no, is_ requiring_ everybody from each of his other four stations to pull one shift at a time there until he can get the place less robbery friendly. Says here if we don't, we can leave."

I thought about it. One shift... can't be that bad. "Darry'll come hang out when it's our turn, you know that. We can bribe Tim into coming too, if ya want. I'm sure he'd make the sacrifice. Boss pays extra for it too, don't he?"

Steve looked at me, a look of pure hatred on his face. "Yeah, he does. But that ain't the problem." He waved the other piece of paper, the one with the cursive writing.

"Well, what's the problem?" I finished making my turkey sandwich and came over to check it out for myself.

"Seems the guys who held down the fort for us while we were off in Hollis are now wanting to throw us under the bus. They," and he waved the paper again for emphasis, "are insisting we pull all their shifts there or they'll rat us out about being gone for longer than the boss knows."

I took the paper from him, wanting to read it for myself. "You gotta be kidding me. They _owed_ us for those shifts! As many times as Bill had been drunk – no to mention Simon was stoned at least once when I covered for him!"

"Yeah well, how quickly they forget! I doubt Darry'd care to hang out way over there each night after working a full day. Besides, he's got the warehouse gig to do too. Tim ain't gonna give up all those evenings just for us either. Nope, buddy, you and I are on our own, unless you can think of a way of getting out of it."

Looking in his eyes, I could tell he was just as pissed off about the situation as I was, but there really wasn't anything we could do about it.

"How often are we talking about here?" I asked aloud wondering how screwed my life was gonna be.

"All the weekends for a month. Then the other DX's staff will take over." Steve answered, holding the schedule in his hand. Our names were penciled in where Bill, Simon, Hector and the others had been scheduled to work. Instead, they would stay at our station in our place, keeping our station manned too.

"All of them? Every weekend?" I ran my fingers through my hair. "This is it! They'd better never bother me for any more shift swaps. And if we get robbed, I'm going after _these_ guys first," I said, balling the schedule up in my fist in anger, "the robbers last. You hear me?"

He clapped me on my back. "Loud and clear."

XXX

Dinner was boring. I'd made kabobs in the oven with no flair or anything. Just chunks of marinated meat, mushrooms, peppers, and onions. Ponyboy promptly slid all the peppers and onions off his and left them in a pile on his plate, untouched. Why I bothered with his I didn't know. He hates onions and peppers. Just further proof I wasn't paying attention. I found a can of corn in the pantry and heated it, then rounded off the meal with applesauce.

Darry'd bugged Ponyboy about the basketball tryouts for most of dinner. Seems he made the team after all. Darry was stoked about it. I was happy too, but couldn't pull the appropriate amount of enthusiasm that I should have. Even though the season was still a few months away, they had to order the jerseys ahead of time if the player's names were gonna be on them. I'd told them I'd pay for his new uniforms and I _would_, but I hadn't told them that I was gonna have to spend a few weekends at station 21 to earn the money yet. I knew Darry'd have a problem with it. A big problem.

"Your birthday's this weekend, Sodapop. You ain't working, right?" Darry'd asked as he looked at my schedule on the fridge. It was the older schedule. My new one, the one with my new location, wasn't pinned up yet. For good reason.

"Nope. I'm off. Gonna be working a few extra weekends after it, though." I hinted, but they didn't pick up on the hint.

"Good. Make sure it stays that way." Darry and Ponyboy exchanged smiles. Again, I wanted to share the enthusiasm, but worry about station 21 and it's reputation bothered me.

"Not a problem. What's planned? Where you guys taking me?"

"Not a chance." Darry said. "You just be here dressed to go out and have some fun. We'll take care of the rest."

"Well, I know if Pony's in on it, there's ain't gonna be a stop at a strip club." I smiled, trying to keep up appearances.

"Soda!" Darry baritoned in protest. I shrugged with a smirk.

They bantered back and forth about school and the upcoming report card season and eventually dinner was done. Pony'd taken the dishes in and started in on cleaning the kitchen, turning on the radio to levels not permitting regular conversation. I grabbed the keys and tapped Darry on the arm, motioning to the door for him to follow. He did.

"Whassup?" He asked as I popped the truck's hood to look around. If Pony got suspicious of us both being out here, I wanted a good, plausible explanation for it.

"You said there was a pinging." I pulled out the oil dipstick, examining it. It needed more, but would be okay for now.

"No I didn't." He answered.

I looked at him hard in the eyes. "Yeah, you _did_." It was a statement. A dark, demanding statement. Understanding filtered in.

"Oh right. A pinging." He leaned against the open engine compartment. "What's going on?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You working at the warehouse next weekend?"

He thought about it. "You mean the weekend after this one? Yeah, why?"

"I have to work, too."

He nodded slowly. "Okay... and the problem with that is ... what? You've worked plenty of weekends before."

"Yeah, well not like this. Boss has me going to station 21. The one out on the West side by the freeway."

He thought about it. His eyebrows furrowed. "The one that got robbed?"

I nodded. "No choice in the matter. It's 'work it' or 'find a new job'."

His turn for a deep breath. I put the dipstick back in and checked the radiator fluids.

Darry's jaw tightened. "I can call out. No problem."

"Yeah, there's a problem. The assholes I work with bailed on me. They have me and Steve working all their weekends for a month out there, to settle our debts for when we were in Hollis. If I don't go, they'll rat me and Steve out for being gone all that time. I'll still get fired. We both will."

"But you only missed ... what? Three days of work? Maybe four? Why the entire month?"

He'd forgotten. "Steve and I had them punch in under our cards. They didn't get paid for that time. We did. Oh, we gave them some dough in thanks, but they _owed us_ though. We shouldn't have to do this, but they have a paper trail to prove we weren't there." I slid the cap back on the radiator and moved to the antifreeze.

"Soda, you really think your boss wasn't aware you weren't there? I mean, c'mon!"

I smirked. "That boss of ours only cares that cars are fixed and customers are happy. Bozo the clown could punch in and he wouldn't care. However, once this gets done, it'll be _done_. All debts paid. I ain't got a choice, Darry. I'm screwed."

Darry combed his hair with his fingers, finally locking his hands behind his neck.

"I can't call out every weekend. I'll lose _my_ job. I'll talk with Tim. See what can be done. When do you start there again?"

"Next weekend. From noon till close. Should be all locked up by nine."

"I don't like it, Soda. Not one bit." His voice was thick with concern.

I closed the hood. "I ain't all that keen to the idea either, but like I said. I either work it or find another job. Ain't nobody gonna pay me what I make now, so I gotta do it. And Darry," I looked toward the house.

"Yeah?"

"Keep this between us. Pony don't need to know. I don't want him down there, out by that station. Send him to the movies or the library. Have Two-Bit keep him busy. _Something_.... I just...."

"Don't worry, Soda. I don't want him there either. Hell, I don't want _you_ there, but I understand - you gotta do what you gotta do. You better be careful, Pepsi. Watch your six."

"I will." I wiped my hands on a rag and came back in the house. Pony was finishing the kitchen, the place as spotless as ever.

"So what kinda cake do you want? Chocolate or double chocolate?" Pony asked with a grin.

"Surprise me, why doncha?" I answered trying my best to fake an authentic grin. If he made it, I already knew it would be Death By Chocolate. There wasn't enough milk to tame the sweetness. Try as I might, cake wasn't exactly on my mind.

Darry's eyes got my attention and he nodded slightly. We both felt the same way.

Ponyboy was the_ last_ person either of us wanted down there.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	13. October 8th

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 13

**October 8th**

XXX

"Hey, get up, old man!"

I yawned, bleary eyed with my tongue feeling like a carpet. What the hell had I been drinking last night? I opened one eye, noticing Darry leaning against my opened doorway with a half smile/ half frown on his face and shaking his head.

"How hammered are you?"

It was more a statement of belligerence than a question. However, it _were_ a question, I might have the answer. Considering the pinging of his voice inside my skull, plenty.

"I'll... ughh... I'll be … fine. I just need … coffee." Was that _my_ voice? It didn't even sound like me.

"Lord, Soda. Your birthday wasn't until _today_. I thought you said you and Steve were going out to the strip to hang out. Your 'last night' of being a kid. I'm gonna knock that idiot into next week when I see him. Look at you!"

My eye shut by its own accord. "Can you do me one really big favor? _Please_?"

"What?"

"Shut up."

"Serves you right. You better fake being sober for Ponyboy's sake. What's he gonna think?"

Darry wasn't waiting for an answer, which was good, cause I couldn't remember the question. I heaved myself over onto my back, watching dust motes slowly drift against the sunlight streaming in my window. I didn't want to move. I wasn't even sure I'd gotten drunk until I realized it too late. The whole damn night was a blur. Steve and me went to the strip, ate and hung out. Then we met up with Two-Bit and Tim. The scene shifted in my head and loud music surrounded me. Buck was there. Buck? _Crap_. Then a pre-birthday drink was given to me and I downed it. Buck said it was a gift. I should have known better. Pony was the one with the least amount of common sense out of all of us, but I was sure even _he_ would have seen that one coming.

It was a sweet drink that had a bite in the aftertaste. I remember Buck asking if I wanted another, and stupidly I think I said I did. How many more came after it I couldn't say. The second one was the end of my clarity. Vaguely I remember telling someone at some point during the night that I had to go home. Thank God Buck didn't leave me in one of his rooms. Darry'd be there with a shotgun at dawn ready to fill my ass full of lead.

Suddenly, an image of Darry wearing a cowboy hat riding a mechanical bull yelling "yehaw" while shooting a sawed off 12 gauge like Looney Tunes' Yosemite Sam slithered across my weakened brain, and I started laughing. Couldn't help it. It was funny as hell.

"Soda?"

Pony's concerned voice brought me off my buzz. I looked over at him, now in the same spot Darry'd been in against the door.

"Yeah, Pone?"

"You um... you okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I guess the guys partied a bit harder than I expected. Come here." I had to call him to me as there was no way I was getting up to go to him. He walked over, concern etching his face. I held up my hand to him some and he took it. I tugged and he sat down by me. I patted his leg.

"Sorry you have to see me like this. It ain't my normal, that's for sure. Don't let it bug ya. I won't do this again."

He was silent. I looked harder at his face. Lines of concentration covered him. He was frowning. He was … _worried_. Now I felt bad. I fought the buzz in my head and tried to sit up. Um, check that. Better if I lay still.

"Ponyboy, tell me what's wrong. I won't be mad, no matter what it is. I swear. Even if you're mad at me, I won't mind. Just tell me."

"What's it like being drunk? I mean, you don't drink... so what happened?"

"Oh, Little Colt, even I make mistakes. Lots of them. Lots and lots and lots and lots.... " My voice trailed a bit. Then I remembered I was talking to Ponyboy and came back to the conversation. "Last night was a whopper. I ain't perfect. And being drunk ain't no picnic. Don't follow in my footsteps, okay? We okay?"

I needed silence. My head was splitting right down the middle, but I'd suffer for Ponyboy's sake. I'd always suffer for him. He'd already suffered enough for the entire gang.

He nodded. "Yeah, we're okay. You gonna be okay?"

I smiled and shut my eyes. Ah, blessed darkness. "I'm gonna be fine. Do me a favor and make me some coffee. I'll be there in a few minutes to drink it."

He carefully got off the bed. "Okay. Hey Soda?"

I opened my eyes. "Yeah, Pony?"

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

He shut my door and I relaxed every muscle in my body against the rumpled sheets and blankets on the bed beneath me. I was eighteen. An adult. No longer a ward of the state, not that I had acted like one in well over a year anyway. Free to leave if I wanted, without anyone being able to say a damn word edgewise. But I wouldn't leave. I was needed here. Darry needed me to help with Ponyboy. He was _our _responsibility now, not just Darry's. I'd better start acting more adult, beginning by staying away from the booze.

I managed to find my feet and stood up, catching the edge of Ponyboy's left-behind desk for balance. It wouldn't fit in his room, so it stayed here, a reminder of what once was. Once the world stopped spinning in the wrong direction, I made my way to the door, then up to the kitchen. Darry was gathering his tools and Pony was in the living room sliding his shoes on. Oh yeah, school and work. Or work and school. Darry put a cup of hot, black liquid under my nose and I scooped it up. It was bitter. It scorched my throat. I didn't care.

"I'll be in around three today," he reminded me in a low, daring voice. "Try to have yourself together by then." His tone was scathing. I understood and nodded my head.

"Don't worry. I'll be the best birthday boy you could imagine." As soon as they left, I planned to go straight back to bed and sleep the rest of this off.

"You'd better. I got to go. _Pony!_" He belted Ponyboy's name out with more gusto than really necessary, and right next to my ear no less; but this form of payback was also his form of punishment, as if my body wasn't feeling punished enough. I started with the noise as if it were a cannon, spilling some of the coffee in the process, and Pony looked up. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah. Bye Sodapop."

"See ya later." I called, waving my fingers in thin air. The door closed and I dropped my head to the table. Everything hurt. Even my hair. I trudged back down the hall, stopping to piss and rinse my mouth, then stripped naked and fell on the sheets. Their coolness against my skin felt good, and I was asleep before I knew it.

XXX

"Damn, Sodapop. You really need lessons on how to hold your booze, buddy."

I looked up. Two-Bit was sitting in Pony's desk chair staring down at me. Except for the towel now covering my crown jewels, I was exactly how I remembered myself.. naked. I guess Two-Bit had tossed my towel over me.

"I shouldn't have had booze to start with. What time is it?" I groaned.

"Nearly two. I'm under orders to come over and make sure you were gonna be okay for the festivities tonight."

Another groan escaped my lips. "Two-Bit, what the hell happened last night? I mean, I didn't do anything I'd need to go to the doctor for, did I?"

He looked at me, shocked, then cackled out a laugh. It thankfully didn't hurt as much as I expected.

"Well, there was that little bit of time when you sort of sneeked off. Why? you itchy?"

I looked at him sharply, which made him almost explode with laughter.

"Hell, no, Sodapop. You didn't think me, Tim and Buck would let you go _that_ far over the edge, now did ya? What kind of buddy do you take me for? C'mon! Nothing happened except a little good, clean fun. It's your birthday, live a little."

"Don't do this to me again. Ever. You got me?" I got up, wrapping the towel already on me around myself and headed down the hall. He followed but went on to the kitchen as I ducked into the bathroom.

"Sure, whatever. Next up... Darry!"

"Man, you get him hammered, I don't think you'll like it." I pilfered the medicine cabinet and found Pony's stash of aspirin, swallowing two with a cupped handful of water.

"Why? You don't think he'd be a fun drunk?"

I glared at him down the hall. It hurt my face to do so, but I did it anyway. He got the jest of the message.

"Yeah, you're probably right. We'll figure something out when it gets closer to January."

Steam filled the room and I stepped into the shower, letting the pelting water remove the last traces of last night. I shaved and cleaned up. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I started to feel human again.

XXX

The drag strip was loud. Monster trucks were everywhere, engines revving all around us, exhaust clouding the air. Nearby, Ponyboy was scarfing down his second hamburger of the night and Sodapop wasn't far away eating a hot dog. I had a Mountain Dew, sipping it to make it last - careful as always about how much I was spending. _One down, one to go._ I thought as I looked at them both.

Overhead, they were calling spectators to the main arena, the show was about to start. The guys sauntered over from wherever they'd wandered off to, and as a group we headed up the bleachers for a good view. For the next hour or so we watched oversized trucks with souped up engines crash into other oversized trucks with their own souped up engines. The excitement was catchy. It'd been a while since we'd all gone out and just had fun together.

Soda was smiling, pointing out stuff every once in a while to Ponyboy, who looked at everything Soda showed him with marked enthusiasm. Even Steve was getting into the act, telling Ponyboy about the Dodge Barracuda versus the Pontiac GTO, which Soda and Steve then loudly debated the pro's and con's of each for at least a half hour. I sat back in fascination to watch. They were more entertaining than the trucks down below. For the first time in a long while, everyone was having a genuinely good time.

When the show ended everyone piled back in my truck, Ponyboy riding up front with me while Soda, Steve and Two-Bit rode in the truck bed.

"You have fun tonight?" I asked as I drove us out of the arena parking lot.

He nodded. "Yeah. I like the cars. I don't really get into them like they do, but it's fun all the same. How bout you?"

"Yeah, it was good. I think Sodapop had fun too."

"You save room for cake?"

I looked at him, astonished. "Me? I wasn't the one eating everything in sight! How much room can you possibly have left?" I poked him in his side, to which he batted my hand away and curled up some. I knew he was ticklish.

"Stop!" He squealed. I laughed. It'd been a long while since I'd seen and heard him truly be happy.

"Okay fine. No more poking. I swear though, I don't know how you can eat a single bite more."

He grinned. "It's _cake, _Darry. Easy!"

XXX

The pile of opened presents lay in front of him. I'd gotten him a new alarm clock, considering his old one was beat from all the abuse the 'off' button had endured. It was time he took responsibility to wake himself up- now that he was an adult; although in the back of my mind I knew I'd still be waking him up. I also got him a new pair of shoes, his old ones were slam wore out. Shoes were always a good, practical gift. Ponyboy had picked out one of Elvis's new 8-Tracks for him to listen to in the truck or in the DX garage where they had a player. It had some good songs so I didn't mind. Steve and Two-Bit surprised me and got him a really nice Buck knife, complete with his initials engraved in the blade. I didn't ask if Two-Bit lifted it then took it to an engraving shop for the extra work. Some things I just didn't want to know.

Pony'd made the cake... his massively sweet, Death-By-Chocolate specialty. He used a regular chocolate cake mix then chopped up a Hershey bar into tiny pieces and added them to the mix. Extra melted chocolate was added to the frosting. It was good... but no one could really eat more than one piece at a time. It would put anyone into a diabetic coma to try.

We hung around and listened to music and played cards for hours, settling down as the night wore on. Pony had even given up and collapsed into a slumbering heap on the couch. Once he was out of the game - and out for the night - the real nuts and bolts of the guys disgustingly sick minds came out. The bull session was on.

Two-Bit and Steve regaled us with talk of women that would quite possibly make Hugh Hefner blush. Soda even surprised me with talk of his exploits in the past, which made me wonder about their validity. If they were true, he was far more experienced than I gave him credit for. I kept an eye on Ponyboy over on the couch, making sure he really was out and not faking. This really wasn't stuff I wanted him to hear. That vixen Linda already had his hormones waking up. Considering he wasn't squirming, I took it that he was out.

I knew the truth - the guys – for the most part- were all talk. That didn't mean the talk wasn't fun to listen to. Maybe five years ago I would have joined in with some made-up crap of my own. As it was, I just played my hand and told them they were full of it when they asked my opinion. They'd find out that life wasn't so simple and fun one day. Still, they kept me young. Hanging with them made me remember I wasn't so much older in age. In body and spirit though, as tired as I felt, I was leap years ahead.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	14. A Day With TwoBit

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 14

**A Day With Two-Bit**

XXX

"How's Casper?"... "_Who's_ helping?"... "She is? Wow, I wasn't expecting that."... "I take it your hired hand didn't return afterall."... "When's the interview?"... "I sure wish I could help. Darry said if all goes well, I can come down for an overnight stay sometime this month, if that's alright with you."... "It is? Great! I'll tell him. How's Alex?"

As I chatted on the phone with Mrs. Nixon, Soda was getting ready for work. Saturday's meant sleep-in days for him and me, Darry had already left long before either of us were up. Now, however, Soda's late morning was over.

"Pony, you seen my shoes?" He asked as he looked around the couch for his work shoes.

"I swear, Soda, start taking them off in the same spot and you wont have this problem!" I called back, holding my hand over the phone.

"Do I need to remind you of your constantly missing track jersey?" he snapped back as he searched under the couch. I grimaced, knowing he was right. I lost my jersey usually once a week before the meets and usually it took both my brothers to help me find it.

"Mrs. Nixon, I sort of have to go. Tell everyone there I said 'hey'." I hung up the phone and rolled my eyes, pushing the kitchen chair back under the table. Steve showed up around this time and the shoe search went into full swing. I found one in his room, the other was in the kitchen. How he did that, I didn't know.

"You ready to go Soda?" Steve asked when both shoes were finally on Soda's feet.

"Yup. See ya tonight, Ponyboy. Have fun at the MegaMall."

They left and I went to shower. Two-Bit was taking me Downtown to the Tulsa MegaMall, one of the largest in our area. I'd wanted to go there for a long time, but Darry was always too busy and Soda was never interested. It had everything. A four screen theater, a two story bookstore, a pet store and more restaurants and fast food booths than I'd ever heard about. Best of all, several reliable friends told me most of the food joints handed out free samples as you walked by. If you were careful enough and timed it right, you'd never have to pay to eat anything. I'd seen brochures about it and now couldn't wait to go see it. How Darry careened Two-Bit into taking me was a mystery, but I wasn't complaining.

I cleaned the house while waiting for Two-Bit. Since Soda'd turned 18, the social workers were backing off. Not quitting.... just backing off. I still expected them to come around every now and then, nosing into our business. Since having Mrs. O' Donovan as our caseworker, things have improved though.

I heard a shrill whistle sounding over the vacuum and looked at the machine to figure out what it was, then realized it was the phone.

"Hello?"

"_Hey there, Ponyboy."_

My heart jumped. Stupid heart. "Hey Linda. How've ya been?"

"_Good. Missing ya, but … oh well. How's life back in Tulsa?"_

I thought about it. I've been in two fights in the same week, was blinded for a few days, and have had more nightmares than I could count. "Fine. Boring as usual. How's Hollis?"

She laughed. Hollis never changes, even I knew that._ "Full of excitement. The cattle business is beefing up." _

Ha ha. Lame. "I heard you were working with Mrs. Nixon. You took my old job."

"_She pays well. Besides, I get to help with Casper. I hope you don't mind."_

Her hands on my horse. I smiled, feeling my face heat up. "No, I don't mind."

We chatted for a bit, me telling her about making the basketball team and how school life was; she was telling me about her classes. I'd had a few of them already. I was so deep into our conversation, I never heard my door open.

"PONYBOY!" Fingers gouged both my sides and I yelped, dropping the phone as a hysterically laughing Two-Bit stood holding his own sides now, doubled over behind me.

"Linda, you still there?" I asked when I picked up the phone. "I'm sorry. My idiot friend just came in. I gotta go."

Her voice seemed miffed but didn't ask questions. _"Alright. It was great talking with you, Ponyboy. Hope we can see each other soon. I, uh. I miss you."_

That caught me off guard. "Yeah, I miss you too. Bye." I hung up the phone and glowered over Two-Bit. My anger only set him off worse. He could barely talk right.

"You should... see... the look.... on … your face! What … was... that? 'I miss you?' Who? Who do you miss? Wait... _Linda_? The _senorita_? Oooohhh!"

"Shut up, Two-Bit." I put the vacuum away while he calmed down.

"Aww, Ponyboy …. Come on; for the first time in your life, you've got a girl calling you. I'm allowed to have a little fun!"

"Who said?" I glowered.

"It's the law of nature. Mmmh mmmh mmh. Ponyboy's in love. Boy howdy!"

"Two-Bit, damn it, do I _do_ this to you? Cut it out, and I ain't in love." I tried to look even more menacing, but it just wasn't possible.

He smirked and one of his eyebrows went up. "What's wrong, can't take a little ribbing? Fine, I'll cut you some slack. It's 'bout time, though. You've had the looks for too long for the ladies to ignore. And even _I'll _admit, that senorita's got charm! Too bad she's three hours away."

"Don't remind me." I mumbled. He laughed, but not in a mean way this time.

"Come on. Let's go to the mall and get your mind off your girl troubles."

XXX

It was great. Besides all the free stuff we could get before they wised up to us, we had malts and burgers. Where he got the dough from to pay for it was a mystery. Still, I didn't complain. The pet store was full of the standard puppies and kittens, but they had an iguana and some tarantulas too. The pet store clerk let me hold one and it crawled up my arm for a while. Two-Bit looked sick as it slowly made it's way up to my elbow. It felt like a fuzzy tennis ball crawling up my arm. They also had some parrots that I also got to hold. I was fascinated with them. They lived for over a hundred years, the clerk told me people left them to others in their wills as the birds often outlived the owners. Wild! I think the clerk was bored. She let me hold, pet or play with just about anything I asked to.

Down the way was a piano store. They had uprights and grands, and memories of playing that grand at that restaurant in Hollis came back to me. One of the grand piano's caught my eye. It was honey oak with a curved frame. Regal. Two-Bit came over with me. He looked bored to tears, but I couldn't take my eyes off it.

"Can I help you, sonny?" The salesman asked. He had that typical tone when greasers like us came over. The 'don't-touch-the-merchandise-cause-you'll-never-be-able-to-pay-for-it' tone.

"Just looking," Two-Bit said. And indeed, that's all we _were _doing. _Looking_. Neither of us had touched a thing. However, the salesman was getting more defensive of his piano.

"Come on, Two-Bit," I hooked his arm and pulled him away just as a young couple came in. I turned to watch, Two-Bit stopped too.

The young woman went to another piano and sat down, chatting with the same salesman who took on a much different tone with them. They smiled, he smiled. He lifted the cover showing her the keys and she laid her hands on them. I expected music to follow. Instead what I heard was the plinging and planging of someone who knew nothing of playing a piano. I doubted she could even whistle! Still, the salesman smiled and watched as she wreaked havoc on the keys.

Now I was incensed. "This is bullshit." I mumbled.

"Ponyboy, let it go." Two-Bit muttered back. This time it was him holding _my_ arm, but I wrenched away. My mother had taught me to respect the piano, that it was for music and melody; not to cause headaches. She'd made it very clear - if all you could do was whack the keys, then stay away from it. That's partly why Darry and Soda left the piano to me. While the salesman was preoccupied with the young couple, I made my way back over to the grand again, sat on the bench and lifted the cover.

"Wait, young man; don't touch...."

Too late. He stormed over ready to toss me out of the store, but I had already started playing Beethoven's _Fur Elise_, a relatively simple piece but one I knew without needing the music in front of me. Two-Bit stood there speechless and even the young couple came over to watch. The salesman said nothing, just stood there aghast. For a moment, I enjoyed hearing the crisp, clear notes resonating from the body of the instrument, caught up in their clarity. Music. As it was _supposed_ to be.

When the last note finished resonating, I got up, gave the salesman a look of disdain and turned to go.

"That was beautiful," called the young couple.

"Thanks," I called back. I hoped I'd taught the salesman a few thing about judging a book by its cover, but I doubted it.

"Wait! Young man!" The woman came over to me. She looked old enough to be maybe 25. I wondered what she wanted.

"Yes?"

"Please, where did you take lessons? I've been looking everywhere for a good teacher..."

"I'm sorry, my mom taught me. She's not available for lessons anymore. I gotta go." I walked away, leaving the lady behind as she went back to the store.

"Come on, kiddo. Let's go grab a movie before the fuzz show."

"Ain't no cops gonna come, Two-Bit. If nothing else, _I'm_ the one who just sold a piano, not him."

He laughed, leaning on my shoulder. "Yeah, you probably got that right, kid, but I wouldn't wait for the commission."

XXX

The movie was good. It was an action flick with lots of car chases and some tuff fights. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, Two-Bit got bored with the on-screen action and started thwacking single pieces of popcorn out onto the unsuspecting patrons in front of us. He'd only launch one at a time and once it was gone, would act all casual. I played along, but was dying inside from wanting to laugh. Around the thirtieth launch, a flashlight beam from the aisle boy hit him dead on, with the manager next to him telling us to leave. We beat it out of there, nearly running all the way out of the mall.

"Moron, now I'll never know how it ends." I was laughing too much to care though.

"That's okay, Pone. We'll go see it again next weekend, up in our part of town. This place is too fancy for me."

"Aww, you just need to know how to blend in and NOT cause trouble."

"Shoot kid. What's life for if not for having fun!"

"Hey Two-Bit, you ever gonna get your grades in shape? You know you only have until 21 to stay in school before they give up and kick you out."

"Yeah, I know. Don't sweat it, Pone. I'm gonna pass this year, I promise. But don't tell anyone."

I slapped him on the shoulder as we came to his car. "Bout friggin time!"

We got home near dinner time. I went to his place to eat, Karen was on her stomach, feet in the air with her legs crossed, watching TV. I plopped down next to her.

"Hey." I said.

She turned to look at me, mild shock in her eyes. "Hey yourself. What's gotten into you?"

Now I was the one confused. "What do you mean?"

"Since when do you want to talk to me?"

I shrugged. "I haven't got the slightest clue what you're talking about. All I said was 'hey.'"

"Ponyboy Curtis, you know_ exactly_ what I'm talking about. I see you nearly every day coming and going with my brother, and never once until now have you willingly been friendly." She leaned closer and sniffed. "Are you high?" I cocked an eyebrow and got up. No wonder I didn't talk to her much.

I found Two-Bit in the kitchen, reheating taco's they'd apparently had last night. I hopped on a counter and looked at him. "Dude, what is wrong with your sister?"

He smiled. "Nothing. She's a teenager. Same as you."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't ever compare me with her. We ain't nothing alike."

He laughed more. "Kid, one day you'll understand. Come on, let's eat. Karen! Dinner!"

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	15. Soda's Plan

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 15

**Soda's Plans**

XXX

It had been a rough weekend and I was thankful it was over. Steve and me worked our asses off over at station 21. The customers weren't like the ones we'd get at our station. These were people fresh off the interstate. Most customers pulled in for fill-ups and were on their way again minutes later. Some locals came by, grunting about whatever was making their day so miserable as they waited for whatever emergent repair had made them venture to the station in the first place. Steve hardly had a chance to stop to eat, I'd given up that hope as well. It was a steady stream with very few breaks.

And of course - the environment didn't help any. Just two blocks over was the unofficial start to Soc territory. Once they caught wind that it was us here, the taunting started. Every now and then a beer bottle would come careening out a car window as they drove past, the scream of "GREASER" filling the air.

"Man, boss ain't paying enough." Steve said as he picked up the pieces from the third bottle of the night that had been hurled our way.

"You got that right." I agreed.

There were some other problems with the station in addition to it's location. The place was older than ours, and less well maintained. After trying for an hour to stop a slow leak from one of the pumps, I finally gave up and shut that pump off. It slowed us down worse, but better that than an explosion. I left a note to the boss about it, but doubted anything was going to be done.

There wasn't any breeze either, so the service bays were hot and stayed that way despite the coolness of the outside air. By the time closing finally came, Steve had stripped down to his T-shirt and workpants. He had basically stayed in the garage bay the whole evening anyway, not like anyone had seen him. I emptied the register and took the receipts and log book, locking everything in the safe. Boss would be back in the morning to collect them and the day guys would be here then.

We walked back to Steve's car, each of us rubbing something that hurt. Me - my arms and shoulders, him - his back.

"Stupid tool box. That thing's older than I am. Hell, half the drawers don't even work on it. Plus it's rusted. I bet those fools left it out in the rain or something," he complained.

"Well, the pumps and office ain't no better. Ain't no organization to this station."

"Here, I'm too tired to drive." He handed me his keys as we got to his car. I was shocked. Steve rarely let anyone drive his wheels, even me. He sat in the passenger seat and shut his eyes. I cranked the engine and headed us home. We'd both be off for two days, then I'd be back at our regular station Wednesday and Thursday, off Friday and we'd both be back here again next weekend. Darry would be off Saturday from the warehouse, and he said he'd come help keep an eye on things. I was glad. This place made me wary.

"Hey Pone," I said as I dragged myself in the house. "How was your day?" Yesterday he was all smiles from his trip to the MegaMall, which I figured he'd like. Today – just looking at him I could tell he was peeved.

He stared at me from the table as I came in, looking almost angry. "What is it, Ponyboy? I'm too tired to play games now, so just out with it."

"You weren't at work. Where were you?"

He wasn't yelling, but his tone was set.

"Pony, I _was _at work..."

"No you weren't. I _went_ there..."

"You went there?" I interrupted, looking at him with surprised shock. He was supposed to have been kept busy at the Y today. I was gonna cream Two-Bit when I saw him. Right now, I was too tired.

"Yeah, I _went _there. Two-Bit dropped me off then went home to check on Karen. We were out of milk so I figured I'd go get some and stop in to say hey on my way back. But you weren't there. Raymond and Bill were. When I asked where you were, they snickered and said it wasn't your day to be there. That's all they'd say. You seeing someone?"

I looked at him, my expression dulled. "Ponyboy, do I _look _like I've been seeing anyone? I ain't off messing around. I was at work. Honest, Ponyboy! Work!"

"If you were at _work_..." he started, but then I got mad. He needed to trust me. Hell, I smelled like a gas station as it was - a mix of grease, oil and gasoline. If he lit a match, I'd probably combust.

"I never said I was at my usual station." I interrupted him in a flat voice. He stopped and looked confused. So much for not telling him. Now he'd have to know.

"You got a second job?"

I smirked. The thought of picking _that _place as a second job was ludicrous. "No. There are some issues with one of the other stations the boss owns, and me and Steve are pulling some shifts over there. It's no big deal. It's way out by the overpass, so I don't want you showing up. It's a busier place, no hanging out trying to help like you can at our usual station. And it's only for a couple of weekends. Things will get back to normal next month."

"The station by the overpass?" I could see the cogs turning in his head. "But that's the station getting robbed, ain't it?"

He was smart. He was certain of the answer long before I could even try to bluff him.

"Does Darry know this? He ain't gonna...."

"Yes, he knows," I answered tiredly. "I didn't see any point in worrying you, so I didn't tell you. I don't have a choice, Ponyboy." I said dryly. "It's work this gig for a while or quit completely. Darry can't do this alone, you and I both know that. I have to do this."

"But what if … I mean, that's where that guy got _shot_ …"

I stood really close to him, knowing how terrified he was that something would happen to either me or Darry. "Ain't nothing gonna happen, Pone. Darry'll be there this weekend, and Tim's coming next weekend. Ain't nobody in their right mind gonna try anything with either of them there."

"That's just it. Nut cases who hold up gas stations usually ain't in their right mind in the first place. Who _would _be to hold up a gas station? And besides, all Darry's muscle won't make a difference to someone with a heater."

I paled some, remembering images from the past. "I'll be fine. I gotta go shower. These chemicals are making my nose hair fall out from the stench."

I shut the door behind me as I went into the bathroom. Pony's look of worry wouldn't let up. I couldn't let him go through an entire weekend with this looming in the future. I had an idea, something that would definitely take his mind off my predicament and ensure he was safe, but I didn't know if Darry'd be willing to go through with it.

XXX

I shut the door to Ponyboy's room, hearing his soft breathing fluttering from his chest. He'd had a busy weekend. Saturday he spent the whole day at the MegaMall with Two-Bit, and today he went over to the YMCA with a guest pass from his coach. Two-Bit went with him, providing comic relief if nothing else. "Keep him busy," was my edict. How he did it, I didn't care.

He was exhausted. A full day of swimming in their indoor pool, rock climbing and basketball. At least he was having fun. It was definitely due him. He'd given up the fight to stay awake and went to sleep around ten, which was my intent. I knew that keeping him going all day was the key to putting him out. I knew him better than Soda thought I did. I may not _understand_ him quite as much, but I did know what it took to knock a fifteen year old into a fast sleep.

Soda was drinking a glass of Kool-Aid out in the kitchen after I closed Pony's door. He looked upset.

"What's up?" I asked, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"Pony knows about my working at the other station."

I looked over at him, surprised. "How'd he find out?" I knew he was quick, but sheesh!

Soda looked disgusted. "How do you think? Two-Bit left him alone for a while this afternoon."

I was gonna have to fire that hood. He sucked at being our accomplice. Still, I honestly didn't expect to keep it from Ponyboy for the whole month. "Well that didn't take him long to decipher. How's he taking it?"

"As expected. He's worried."

"Well, he does know that place is a danger magnet. How did it go over there this weekend? I didn't have a chance to talk with you yesterday."

He looked at the wall separating the kitchen from Pony's room, unsure. "He's asleep, Soda. I just checked."

"Yeah, right. Lets talk outside."

I rolled my eyes but followed him to the porch where we sat on the bench**. **He laid his head back and thought for a minute.

"It went okay, I guess. The place is run down. Half the equipment doesn't seem to work. Between trying to fix it and keeping an eye on who's coming in, I'm worn slam out."

"No hassles?"

He shook his head.

"Well, that's good. One weekend down, three more to go. You're off for two days. You got any plans?"

"Thought I'd go watch Pony practice for track on Wednesday. Other than that, just work around the house some."

I nodded, taking another sip of the beer.

"Darry, now that Pony knows where I'm at … you know Two-Bit ain't gonna be able to keep him away."

"Yeah, I know. I'll just have to tell him flat out. He stays away from Bucks without much more than my insistence."

He looked at me as if I were stupid. "There is an ocean of difference between Bucks and the West Side DX, and you know it."

I had to agree to that. "Yup. Still, he'll have to do as I say. I can't exactly tie him up, and Two-Bit has already failed me more times than I care to count. Not that he means to, but Ponyboy can be as sneaky as they come when he wants to be."

"Yeah, but I sort of know where to stash him for the weekend where I know he'll _want_ to stay, and he'll have plenty of adult supervision making sure he's fine while he's there."

I waited for the solution. Soda's face hinted at a smile.

"And you _did_ say he could go back there this month...."

Ah. Mrs. Nixon's. "Who's gonna take him? I ain't got time to drive him there and get back in a day, and neither do you. And I ain't putting him on the bus either. They'll just force him off again - out of spite." Memories of that long, rain filled night came back to me, but I shoved them out of the way again.

"Mrs. Nixon will. She said she would anyway, if we ever needed her. It's perfect. C'mon, Darry... whaddya say?"

I sighed. I finished the beer and looked at the starry sky, searching for answers that wouldn't come. "Let me think about it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Soda smiling. _Great, just great_. _Soda's working at the most dangerous gas station in town and in the meantime, Ponyboy's gonna get shipped off across the state where his (possible) girlfriend sits waiting for him with equally active hormones. What a mess. How did I wind up in this situation?_

"Fine, you think about it. I'm beat. I'm going to bed." Soda got up and headed inside, leaving me to sit out on the porch, gazing at the stars and hearing the various sounds of the neighborhood echo in the darkness.

Over a year ago it was so different. I could hear when the Cade's were on the warpath, knowing Johnny would be showing up at my house at some point for a meal and the recliner to sleep in. I could hear when Mr. Randle was drunk, bashing into the trash cans as he maneuvered his car up the road. Steve would usually be over those nights as well. I would hear Dally cursing someone - anyone – making a sailor look tame when he would be on the way over. It wasn't Dallas if he wasn't cursing. How Pony never picked up half that vocabulary still amazes me. He'll curse every now and then, but I can tell he tries to hold back. At least he does when he's around me.

Now the neighborhood is less noisy. Cats caterwauling all night compete with howling dogs. Car's honking and brakes squealing from the nearby main road filter through the yards like a breeze. There are still some fights, some screaming matches every now and then from the neighbors, but not like a year ago. A year ago I wasn't sure what I was doing. A year later, I'm still just as befuddled.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N: Wow.... Is anyone still out there? Thanks for those who have stayed the course, I appreciate it.


	16. Tuesday

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 16

**Tuesday**

XXX

The phone call had been unexpected. I could hear it in her voice.

"_Darrel? Oh hello! How are you?"_

"I'm fine, Mrs. Nixon. How's everything at the ranch?"

"_Just as it always is … work, work, work. We're getting along, though. How's Ponyboy?"_

"He's busy with school, but so far his grades are all "B's" or better." I didn't want to brag on him, I shouldn't always expect "A's" to come home – and I didn't, but I knew he was capable of it. If I let up a little to allow a "B" to come home, he might take that as permission to bring in "C's". That would put me at the end of my rope, cause with his smarts, I know he can do better. "He's going out for basketball in the winter. Already made the team."

"_I'm so proud of him. I know you and Sodapop must be too. What can I do for you, Darrel?"_

I wasn't sure how to just ask; until he'd been taken from me, he'd always been my responsibility. I realized with some selfish embarrassment that my free hand was tangled in the phone cord loops. I didn't know why I was so nervous, I wasn't giving him up - just sending him out for a weekend. Maybe. Pulling free, I coughed to clear my throat and got up the nerve to ask.

"You had mentioned that Ponyboy could come to your place to see his horse, that he was welcome anytime... is that offer still up?"

"_Darrel, you don't even have to ask. I consider him my family, you know this. He's welcome anytime, anytime at all. You and Sodapop also. When would he like to come?"_

She was always receptive, I had to give her that. "I was wondering if this weekend wouldn't be too soon? Possibly stay overnight? Somehow I'll get him home on Sunday."

"_Not a problem. Alex will be so excited! She's missed him so."_

"I'll bring him down on Friday afternoon, after he gets out of school. It'll be late when we get there."

"_Darrel, I know it's not my business, but is something going on?"_

"Just a screwed up work schedule between Sodapop and myself that's leaving Ponyboy in a lurch. Nothing major. Besides, he really wants to see that horse." Not to mention Linda, _what am I doing!_? "So everything's okay for him to come over?"

"_I'll have dinner waiting for him. And you, too. I insist."_

"Thanks, Mrs. Nixon. I really appreciate this."

"_You're welcome, Darrel. See you this Friday."_

Well, that was settled. He'd have to skip track practice. I wasn't going to be getting in until ten as it was. Long drives were painful. I'd have to get Steve to check the engine, make sure it was up for the trip. Now to break the news to Ponyboy. Later though, I had to get back to work.

XXX

Test results. I watched as Mrs. Johnson passed out the tests, meandering up and down the aisles and placing the papers upside down on our desks. She graded with a red pen, a bright red pen that looked like blood. Those who failed always had papers that looked like a massacre had happened on the paper, bleeding through to the other side. A crime scene. Rarely when a blood bath came anyones way were the owners of said blood bath willing to turn the paper over, knowing everyone in the vicinity was looking, either taking pity on the mourning party, or silently grateful they weren't so dumb. She headed toward me, sliding my paper on my desk, a little red showing but not much. Maybe my paper was just slightly injured, a survivable flesh wound. I still didn't want to look.

"Whadja get, Ponyboy?" Tony mouthed at me. He and I had two classes together, and were in friendly competition to get the best marks. I was kidding myself to think I would one day be valedictorian, but I still held out hope for landing somewhere in the top ten. I noticed on his paper he also had a little red showing. This wasn't an easy test. Mrs. Johnson liked to test cumulatively on everything every eight weeks or so, which meant that every eight week test was going to get harder and harder, and longer and longer. More bloodshed for the weak.

"You are all upper level students, you should be able to handle it." She said rather matter-of-factly when she explained it. And no, she didn't grade on the curve.

I peeked at my paper, 94. Not bad. It was a flesh wound. Hardly needing a bandaid. I smiled. "What did you get?" I mouthed back.

"Aww, c'mon man. I asked you first." He whispered.

"Flip on the count of three," I offered. He nodded. Three fingers went up one at a time, and together we revealed our grades. Ha! I did better. I smiled. He'd made a still-respectable 90.

"Dog breath." He muttered at me, sinking lower in his seat. I hid my chuckle behind a cough.

"Mr. Curtis, are you alright back there or do I need to come perform the Heimlich?"

"No ma'am, I'm fine." I said, turning red. Now Tony was laughing, but being much quieter about it. We got out our books and took notes on the new material, getting background assignments to look up on our own. Mrs. Johnson loved for us to do our own research, which was fine by me. The bell rang and we all headed out. I'd see Tony again after an hour, in third period.

XXX

"Two-Bit, are you trying to amaze me or kill me?"

Mrs. Hennesy was looking at me with shock on her face. "Sorry, ma'am, I didn't quite get your drift."

She put one hand on her hip and stared at me, the other hand holding my math test out. "For the last two years I have been trying to get this concept across to you, and for the last two years you have repeatedly shown everything from indifference to apathy for the material. Now suddenly you're passing everything. Young man, what are you up to?"

She handed me the test, 83. _Not bad,_ I thought smiling. If I'd worked out more of the problems, I'd probably have done even better. "Naw, Mrs. H. I ain't trying to kill ya. Just trying to move up a grade is all."

She shook her head. "Where was _that _idea two years ago? You could have graduated by now."

"But then what would I be doing? My days just aren't the same without you, Mrs. H. I need you!" Before she could react, I leaned over and kissed her cheek, then swooped out of the room to my next class. Mechanics.

Steve was basically teaching the class. He had that 1950 Plymouth in pieces all over the shop, putting it back together, repairing or replacing parts so rusted or busted they'd never run again. Everyone had something to do with it, but Steve could tell when something wasn't right. He'd come over and whack the culprit on the head while cussing him out a bit, put the part right himself and walk away.

The official teacher of the class, Mr. Blackmon, stayed in his office chain smoking and drinking Pepto-Bismol all day. I guess his lifelong dream wasn't to "teach" hoods how to fix cars. It was easy to see he was scared to death of his students, even though no one ever bothered with him. Interestingly enough, no one ever scored less than an "A" in his class either; every one of us had a switch or butterfly in our back pockets.

I strolled in the shop and picked up the carburetor and started messing around with the choke plate, and Steve managed to whack me on the head.

"Hey, I just got that fixed. Don't screw with it, moron."

I sat it down, grinning. Looking around, the wreck was still in pieces everywhere, although the pieces looked more organized. "So what's your timeline on getting this thing running again?"

He looked at the mess of parts and shrugged. "I could have this running again in a week, but has us dragging this out to midterms. Why spoil it for him? Besides, I ain't getting paid for this, so what do I care?"

"Cause I know you, Stevie; your rep and ego want this done just so you can have it done."

He grinned, knowing I was right. "Whatever."

"You got any plans for tonight?" Kathy was dealing with her red tide and was as bitchy as ever, so I was keeping my distance.

"Thought I'd call Evie. Take her to a movie. I heard some chick flick was showing down at the Double, thought I could get some later if I endured the insanity first. You?"

"Nope. Kathy's on the rag."

"Take Sodapop. I doubt he's doing anything."

"Man, he really needs to get back out there. It's been a year since that two-timing Sandy got herself knocked up. He needs to move on. He's gonna give himself blisters dealing with matters on his own."

"I've been telling him the same thing for months, Two-Bit. He's just been too preoccupied with the kid and their own problems to pay attention."

"Well, last summer was a bit rough for everyone, I'll give him that. But the season's changing. He's 18 now! Time to get back out there!"

Steve finished changing the hoses on the welding torch and slid on his goggles. "Yeah, Two-Bit, why don't you go remind him." He lit the torch and I backed off, wondering where I could find a gal just right for Sodapop Curtis.

XXX

The bowl was empty, just a few brown chocolaty streaks of ice-cream left. Not enough to even tease the worst chocoholic in town. I rinsed the bowl and left it in the sink, not quite bored enough to want to do dishes. Pony'd do them. He'd gotten into the habit of just doing them without being asked.

I noticed there was silence at the end of the house so I went to rotate the clothes - get the dry clothes out of the dryer and shove more dirty clothes in the washer. It was the "responsibility" of whomever was home to get the laundry washed. When I was off, I did it. When Darry was off, he did it. Ponyboy did his share too, but since he cleaned the house more than Darry or me, we cut him some slack about it.

It was Tuesday, my second day off since working at station 21. I was already dreading this weekend. Tomorrow I was back at our regular station. Steve said he would come over if he could – depending on what Evie had planned. I shook my head, wondering if those two were ever gonna make their union official or if it was just great sex that kept them together. Not like her parents cared. Or maybe, that was the problem. If they didn't care and she didn't care, did that make her less of a worthy woman for a guy to want to be with for the rest of his life? Not like I could judge. Sandy had ruined everything for me.

Gaah! This is insane. I turned on the radio and dived into folding the clothes, putting them away later when I was done. I tried closing my eyes to "see" it like Pony had, but all I managed to make was a haphazard mess of mismatched clothes, most of them inside out. I didn't know how he did it. But, Pony was more intuitive than the rest of us. I grinned, knowing how special he was, and secretly delighted in the fact that he was MY brother. I doubted there was anyone else on the East side as smart as he is. Darry's smart too, but Pony... God help me if Ponyboy doesn't go to college.

Well, except for the dishes, I'd done all I could. Laundry was done and put away, the floor vacuumed, and all the clutter that builds up in a normal day was put away. I was back to being bored. Looking at the clock, school would be out soon, then things should liven up around here. Maybe when Pony finished his homework, we could go play a game of one-on-one on the court. Maybe work on his jump shot.

A dog barking made me look out the window, the mailman. He slid several envelopes into our box and continued on his route. I sighed, knowing lots of envelopes usually meant lots of bills. I loped to the box and pulled them out, glad at least that the extra I was making at station 21 would help some.

Electric, insurance, junk, junk, hmmm. This is different. A manila envelope. Flipping it over, I saw it was addressed to me. The return address was labeled "Department of the Army."

I felt my heart skip a beat as my blood started to pool in my legs.

_Oh God, no. Please no. Not this. _

I went inside, knowing if I collapsed, the sidewalk would not be the best place for it. With shaking hands, I dropped the bills on the table and carefully opened the envelope.

It had my name and address typed on one side, an impersonal stamped address on the other side, the Eagle emblem of the U.S. Army in the upper left corner and in bold print centered at the top were the words: _Selective Service System, Order to Report For Armed Forces Physical Examination._

_You are hereby directed to present yourself for Armed Forces Physical Examination in the local board named above by reporting at Tulsa Recruitment Office, 133 Sanchez Road, Tulsa Oklahoma on 22 October. _Some cursive scrawl on the bottom indicated a name.

My legs shook so bad I fell to the floor. At that point I wasn't the strong one. This was serious reality hitting me like a wrecking ball. At that very moment, I had seen every mistake in my life, how they had worked to propel me to this point. I'd seen the news but had ignored it, wanting Vietnam and the draft to just go away. Pretend that we – my brothers and friends and I – had suffered more than our share of anguish and turmoil already. We were due some peace from that kind of pain. It was _owed_ us!

But I was _wrong_. I had to pay now. _I_ had to pay, and I knew my life … my own _existence _was the asking price.

"Oh my God!" I heard a voice beg, not even recognizing it as my own. "No, oh _please_ no!"

I had been drafted, and it was time to pay up.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N- In doing research for this, I actually found on the internet a pictures of an actual draft letter. The exact wording, minus the address and dates that I substituted for Sodapop, is the same. A Canadian, Chris Faiers, living in the USA since a young boy with his family received 3 draft notices the same week. His educational deferments had run out after moving from Ga to Fl. Out of other options, he went to live with distant family in England. He now lives in Canada. I comment on this neither being for nor against the Vietnam conflict, nor insinuating any good or bad feelings for those who served or chose not to. It was what it was. Semper Fi.


	17. Secrets Sworn In Darkness

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 17

**Secrets Sworn In Darkness**

XXX

"Hey, Sodapop! Wow, the house sure looks good. Um, thanks for leaving me the dishes, I guess." Two-Bit had dropped me off then left, not bothering to come in for a bit. My surprise at the condition of the house was real, usually Soda fiddled with junk in the garage on his days off. He hated cleaning. It was sort of my thing to do. I guess he'd remembered as there was a stack of dirty dishes sitting by the sink waiting for me. "Soda?"

He hadn't answered me. He was standing in front of the fireplace, one hand on his hip the other acting as a chin rest with his elbow on the mantle. In front of him were the pictures of our parents and us. Two very grainy pictures of our grandparents sat next to it. Both sets of grands were gone long ago, dad's parents before I was born, mom's were both gone before I was two. I didn't remember them. Soda's stare was a million miles away.

"Soda? Hey, what's wrong? Soda!"

He jerked some and looked at me, scrubbing his face. "Oh hey, Ponyboy, didn't hear you come in. How was school?"

I looked at him as if he were a stranger, cause he sure wasn't acting like his happy go-lucky self. "Fine. Made a 94 on my math test. Beat Tony by a couple points." I smiled, remembering how Tony had sulked for a bit. I'd probably pay for it later, but for now I could bask in that glory. Soda gave a half-hearted smile back. "What's up? Why're you staring at the pictures?"

Soda shook his head and started to walk by me, then out of the blue grabbed me in a bear hug, squeezing the daylights out of me.

"I'm really proud of you, Ponyboy. You done good, kiddo."

"Gee, thanks Soda. Um, could you let up a little, you're smothering me!"

He let go and headed to the kitchen, pulling out some frozen pork for dinner.

"Did you forget it's your night to cook?" I called, teasing him. As much as Soda loved to screw with dinner, I was surprised he'd forgotten. He filled a bowl with hot water and tossed the chops in it, letting them thaw the fast way.

"Yeah, I sort of got busy cleaning. You want rice or mashed potatoes?"

"Don't care, but whichever you chose, I'd like it to stay white."

He grinned at me, ruffling my hair as I headed down the hall to start on my homework. Next thing I knew, it was nearly six and Darry's heavy footsteps were coming inside. I stopped and listened, not needing to get off my bed to hear through the walls.

"Hey Sodapop. Smells good. What's for dinner?"

"Chops with potatoes, salad, and string beans."

"Perfect. Looks good too. What's Ponyboy up to?"

"Homework. He made an "A" on his math test. Well, I guess I should have let him tell you."

Pause

"How long before dinner's ready?" Darry asked.

"Not long. Maybe fifteen minutes."

"I'm gonna grab a shower. Be out soon."

Darry's heavy footed step came down the hallway. A knock was tapped on my door and I looked over at it. "Yeah?"

Darry poked his head inside. "Heard you did good on your test."

I nodded. "A 94."

"Do you know what you got wrong?"

I reached into my bag and pulled out the wrinkled paper, handing it to him. He looked it over and scowled some. "Forgot to carry the decimal on number 16. That's why that one was wrong. And number 21 is missing the exponent. Simple mistakes. Not bad, but you can do better."

My smile faded a bit, but I nodded. "I'll try," I said as I took the paper back.

"See that you do. Dinner's almost ready. I'm gonna take a fast shower. Why don't you go help Soda set the table."

I put my book aside and got up. Darry headed to the bathroom as I headed to the kitchen to grab some plates. Soda was leaning against the counter, arms crossed with a furrowed look on his forehead. As I stood next to him reaching to get the plates, he spoke softly.

"Ponyboy, you did good on that test. _Damn _good. I'm proud of you. I bet even Darry would have forgotten something if he had taken that test. Hell, I never would have gotten through the first question. You're smart. Don't ever forget that."

That made me feel a bit better. It's not like I'd forgotten the exponent or to carry the decimal on purpose. It had been a hard test, and I'd simply goofed up. "Thanks, Soda. It ain't a big deal though. I'll just have to do better next time. One day I'll get it right."

He put a hand on my shoulder. "You got it right _this_ time, Ponyboy. Do the best you can and be happy with it. Perfection is a goal, not something anyone actually achieves. Just do your best and be happy with it. I'm happy with _you_, just as you are."

I looked hard at his eyes. "What's with you tonight, Soda? You sure are acting weird." I got the plates and waited for him to let me go. He let up on his grip, patting it.

"Nothing. Can't I just tell you every now and then how proud I am of you?" he asked with a sudden smile. Funny, it seemed forced.

"Sure, yeah. Thanks. I'd better get the table set. You sure cooked enough food. At least there should be enough leftovers for either you or Darry to take to work tomorrow."

Soda's odd grin continued, that far-off look back in his eyes again. He grabbed some cups and the pitcher of Tang, then we sat at the table waiting for Darry to come eat.

XXX

Soda's been acting strange ever since I came home; quiet and moody, not his norm. I watched him over the top edge of my newspaper as he sat at the table, trying to write something but obviously wasn't getting it right. Another piece of paper got balled up and I put my paper down, going over to see what I could do.

"Anything I can help with?"

Soda jerked, seemingly surprised to hear me. He gathered the balls of paper and tossed them into the trash. "No, it's um, personal."

I laughed. "Since when is anything in your life off-limits to me?" I stopped laughing when I saw how dead serious he was. "Sodapop, what's wrong?" Emotions I hadn't seen in a year washed over his face, and concern overtook me. He wavered.

"Not here. Not where Pony can hear us."

I almost didn't hear him, but he got up and grabbed his jacket, waiting, looking at me to see if I was going to follow.

"Ponyboy, Soda and I are going out to the store. Be back soon. You work on your homework, okay?"

"Can you bring me back a Pepsi and a chocolate bar?" his voice yelled back.

"No." I yelled, but Soda yelled "sure" at the same time. I shook my head and grabbed my coat and keys, following Soda outside.

"He doesn't need that junk," I protested.

"It's a candy bar and a Pepsi. Ain't gonna kill him."

"It ain't helping his complexion any." I muttered in return.

"He's a teenager. Zits come with the territory." He zipped right back.

"Soda...." I started, but he cut me off.

"Darry, lighten up and let him have the candy. It ain't like the calories are gonna hurt him, and anyway, it could be smokes he's wanting instead."

"Fine," I conceded. "But just this once." I drove out of the neighborhood and headed toward the store a few miles away. "Now, what's got your boxers in a bunch?"

"Darry, what I'm gonna tell you, I want you to promise me you'll never tell anyone else. No one in the gang, not Tim, and God help me, not Ponyboy."

Whatever it was, it had to be serious. It took a second for me to answer.

"Did you get some girl pregnant?"

He smirked. "No. That would have been better."

I took a quick look at him, sitting in the darkness of the cab next to me, staring out the windshield. It took a block for him to say it, but when he did, his voice sounded muffled.

"I got my draft notice today. I'm going to 'Nam."

"_What?_!"

He winced. I slammed on brakes to keep from running off the road.

"I said, I got...."

"Don't say it, just _don't_...._ don't_ say it. There's got to be a mistake!"

He pulled out a folded rectangular envelope from his back pocket and handed it out to me, his hand shaking some. I looked at the envelope - despising it already even though I hadn't read it. To me it was a death notice. A death notice for the living. I didn't want to touch it, wishing we could burn it and forget it had come.

My mind raced. I could move, pack up what I could and skip town tonight with my brothers next to me safely in the truck. I had no idea where to go though, and it wouldn't make the contents of the letter change any. I reached over and took the envelope, Soda refusing to look at me. From his profile in the darkness, I could see a tear run down his cheek.

"There's no mistake. I called the recruiters office already. It's official. My numbers up. I leave next Friday. Promise me, Darry. _Promise me_ you won't tell Ponyboy. Don't even let him get enough clues to figure it out. He's a hell of a lot smarter than you give him credit for, and he's got too much going on right now to have this hanging on him.

Under the glare of a street lamp, I read the letter. My head screamed that this couldn't be happening, but it was.

"I'll go tomorrow, get you a deferral. This won't happen, Soda. It won't."

"Darry," his exhausted voice quietly said, "I've already asked. I'm not in college, remember? I dropped out. My only chance for a deferment is gone. I'm out of options. I'll have to go."

I was getting angry. Angry that someone else was now fucking with what's left of my family.

"No, Soda. NO!"

"What choice do I have, Darry?" he pleaded. He wanted out of this just as much as I wanted him out.

I thought quickly. The only choice I knew of lay north. Far north. As in Canada. "You just say the word, Sodapop and I'll move us to Canada. I mean it. We've got a week to get packed and out of here. I can get another job up there. I'm sure they need roof's there just like they do here."

"Yeah, _that's_ a great option. In case you haven't noticed, we don't speak French." How Soda could be sarcastic right now was a testament to his character.

"They speak English too," I reminded him.

Soda looked at me, shaking his head. "We can't leave, Darry. I've thought about it and thought about it all day. Ponyboy's whole life is right here. This is gonna be bad enough for him; he's gonna need the guys around him when I'm gone. And whether you admit it or not, you're gonna need them too. Besides, what would Uncle Patrick and Uncle Mike think, me running away when the country they died for came calling for my turn to serve? They'd roll over in their graves to have me dishonor our family name."

"They _volunteered_, Soda, you didn't!" My voice was thick with fury, remembering our fallen uncles that none of us had ever met. Mom's brother, our Uncle Patrick, died in Korea. Dad's brother, Mike, was lost at Pearl Harbor on December 7th. Neither Mom nor Dad had said much about their lost siblings, just that they were fallen family hero's. As neither had children, Soda and Pony were given their names in their memory. "You think they would honestly approve of this? Not to mention they were older than you and trained for the military. This is a completely different situation. Most draftees don't stand a chance. I've buried enough members of this family already! I don't want to have to bury you too."

"You think I'm gonna die over there too, don't you?" His voice was above a whisper, but what he he'd said wasn't a question. It was a statement. As if it were already over. He turned to look at me, searching my eyes for the answer to that statement and found it. Try as I might, I couldn't hide the tormented _yes_ in them.

"You can beat the odds, Sodapop. Just stay with your group. In the _middle _of the group. Don't volunteer for anything, and don't play heroics either. Just go, stay alive and come home." I tried to give him hope. Not every draftee came home in a box. Not all of them! There was a chance. If he didn't fight for that chance every day he would be there, then …. then it _would_ be over. I _would_ lose him. "Damn it, Soda. We need you here. I can't …" I looked away, my shoulders slumped. Whatever I was going to say was lost.

"Don't tell Ponyboy," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He turned to me, a desperate look on his face. "I don't want him to know. I don't want him facing this before he has to. He's got his school work to concentrate on."

"You think he's just not going to notice you haven't come home from work in a _really long time_?" Now it was my turn for sarcasm. Ponyboy would _have_ to be told. It would devastate him, but he'd have to know.

"He's been destroyed enough for the last few years. Not yet. I'll tell him, but not yet. There's still time. A little over a week."

I knew as well as he did that a week was not enough time to shove a lifetime in.

"He's going to need time, Soda. He's going to need to say good-." The word stuck in my throat, and a single sob unexpectedly broke from me. The tears that came with it shocked me too. Like lightening, I had him in a tight embrace, words breaking forth into his ear. "Don't make me have to say it. You better not come back dead. I mean it, Sodapop!"

Soda's soft, resolute voice sounded in the dark cab. "Darry, I'm gonna need you to watch out for Pony. Better than you _ever_ have before. You're going to have to remember first off that he's not your son, he's your brother; he's going to need you to be _that_ for him. Don't rag him so much - like today, that test he did, he made an "A", but you only pointed out what he did wrong. He needs to hear he does stuff _right_, too. Give him a chance, let him make his mistakes. Promise me that you'll do a better job at trying to keep him happy. Let him enjoy being a kid for as long as he can. Then when he's done being a kid, make sure he becomes something great. He's_ got _to. Someone's got to come out of this decade better than they were when they went in it. Even if I...." I squeezed him harder, not wanting him to say it. "Even _if._.. you _got_ to get him through this. For me. For Mom and Dad. For him. Please, don't let me down. Not on this."

For the longest time, all I could do was hold him tight. I felt if I let him go, I'd lose him. Forever. Eventually, his hand patted my back and he loosened his hold; I had no choice. My hold slipped and I had to let him go.

"I won't let you down, Sodapop. I promise."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	18. Elvis

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 18

**Elvis**

XXX

I wiped my face on the back of my hand and started the truck again. "Are you gonna tell Steve?"

"I will. Eventually. After that, I'm sure anyone who gives a care will know. Steve'll let it slip to Two-Bit, and Two-Bit will slip it to Tim. Between Tim and Two-Bit, it'll spread like wildfire before too long. That's why I don't want anyone to know. I don't want Ponyboy finding out that way. It'd kill... I mean, it just wouldn't be right for him to find out that way. I'll tell him myself."

"What about your job?" My throat was so dry, it hurt to talk.

"I'll tell the boss later. You ain't got to worry about my pay, Darry. I'll send my checks to you. It'll be regular money too, not no week by week kind of thing. That should help out better."

I pulled into the store parking lot, forgetting what it was we had to come out here for in the first place.

"You gonna give the DX notice, or are you just gonna slip out at the last minute?"

He sighed, wiped his eyes and rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. "I'll figure out something. For now, I'm gonna keep going like I usually do. Station 21 needs me and Steve this weekend, and I ain't leaving Steve in a lurch out at that place. He's gonna need someone to watch his back. Besides, he'd wonder what was up if I suddenly didn't show. You still gonna be there?" He got out of the truck and waited for me. I slid out too and joined him for the walk into the store.

"Yep. I'll be there. I called Mrs. Nixon about having Pony go out to her place for the weekend. I can call to cancel...."

"Don't. Let him go. If he can have a good weekend, I want him to have it. My notice shouldn't change those plans."

I shook my head. The little precious time he had left, he was gonna squander away by working. "He's not gonna like that. He'd want to be with you."

Soda looked down. "I know. But this is safer for him. That's what matters. Besides, this ain't exactly easy, me holding this inside so's he don't know."

We got some milk, eggs, and bacon, Soda snagged a 6-pack of Pepsi and a couple of chocolate bars, then together we headed to the checkout line. He paid the cashier and we headed home.

"What were you working on, back home at the table?" I suddenly asked, wanting to break the uncomfortable silence of the ride. There didn't seem to be much to say.

"I was trying to write a will. I ain't got nothing to leave behind, though, so it kept coming out wrong."

If my throat was dry before, it was dessicated now. "You just write it the best way you can. If, God forbid.... if something should happen, I'll make sure …." My voice hitched but I pushed the tears back so I could at least see to drive. I pulled myself together, shutting everything down inside myself to deal with later. His hand gripped my shoulder.

"I know you will." His voice was so calm, so quiet. "I'm sorry, Darry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"That all this keeps happening to you. To _us_. That I won't be here to help you get through it this time."

"Don't, Soda. _Don't_ do this. You just get your ass home in one Goddamn piece alive. You hear me?"

I pulled up to the curb, bumping my tires against the lip of the sidewalk as my eyes were too blurry to see the distance well enough in the dark.

"I'll do my best, but I'll make no promises. You just take care of Ponyboy. He's the most important thing in this family. Now, no more bawling. I mean it when I say I don't want him to know. I'm the one facing it. If I can handle it, you can too."

He got out and headed inside. I wiped my face again and headed off down the street on foot for a while. If Soda didn't want Ponyboy to know, then he'd better not see me right now.

XXX

"Hey, kiddo. One chocolate bar and one Pepsi, just as you requested. Whacha working on?"

I stopped playing my guitar, setting it back in the case when Soda came into my room without bothering to knock. I felt my face get hot and grinned before I could help it. I didn't care if he came in, but I was still sort of embarrassed to be heard playing music. It certainly didn't help my failing greaser rep.

"Nothing. Just messing around. You guys were gone a long time. Where'd ya go?"

"Nowhere important. Just up to the market and back. I was looking at the new car magazines in the store and got sidetracked. You know how preoccupied I get with those. Darry was tapping his foot waiting on me."

I listened but didn't hear Darry's familiar stomping. "Where'd you leave him?"

He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "Dunno where he is now. You know how he is, he'll be fine. You're getting better with this thing. Can I?"

I nodded, handing him the guitar. He held it right, then flicked his fingers across the strings making more a racket than a sound any human ear would appreciate. I winced from imaginary pain. He laughed.

"Alright, fine smarty, you do it." He handed it back with a smile. I took it and played the first few bits of Elvis's _Are You Lonesome Tonight._ Soda watched in silence. It seemed he turned a few shades paler than I expected.

"I'm not good, I know..."

"No Ponyboy, that was … wow. That was great. I just wasn't expecting something … slow … like that."

"It's easier to pick out the chords that way. I ain't got the sheet music, I have to play it by ear."

He was staring at me, mouth still open some. His eyes seemed to be studying me, memorizing me. It made no sense, making me even more self-conscious than before. Shaving had started to irritate my skin some, causing some pimples to emerge. Shit, I wondered if I had another damn zit brewing. Puberty sucks, that's for sure. "You really think I'm good? Don't be fooling me either. Tell me the truth."

He nodded, smiling some. His eyes said it more than the rest of him did. "Yeah, Pone. You're better than good. _Way_ better."

I shook my head from embarrassment now, putting the guitar back up and setting it in the corner. "Thanks." I yawned and stretched, pulling off my shirt to get ready for bed. "I'm beat. You sure you didn't leave Darry somewhere? He ain't come in the house yet." I piled my books on my dresser, ready for school in the morning. Soda got up and headed back to my door.

"No, I didn't leave him, honest. He'll be in eventually. You going to bed?"

"After I brush my teeth. I got a test tomorrow in science and I'm dog tired. Not to mention track practice. You're working tomorrow, ain't ya?"

"Yep. Won't go in until noon, so I'll be in late. Darry and I have a treat for you, if you ain't too tired to hear about it now."

I eyed him suspiciously. "What?"

He grinned. "Well, you know I have to work at station 21 this weekend and Darry's gonna be busy with work too, so we thought you'd like to go out to check on your horse. Take that weekend we've been promising you and go have a little fun. Whaddya say?"

It took me a second for it to sink in. Hollis. Mrs. Nixon. Alex. LINDA! "Yes!" I nearly screamed.

He started laughing. "Yeah, I thought you'd like that. Bout time you had some real fun. Two-Bit's gonna take you - he's the only bum around with a drivers license and no job, so you'll have to skip track. She's gonna bring you back Sunday. And you know if you step out of line, Darry'll never let you go back again, so you'd better behave. Not that I'm worried at all about that. You managed quite well out there without us. I think you'll do fine. Just stay away from falling trees!"

I couldn't believe it. Hollis! My thoughts raced back to last summer, when the dark days of separation from my brothers brought me to a family willing to take me, a guaranteed college fund via Casper, and my first kiss. A kiss no one_ here_ knew about. I got up, feeling tired but exhilarated at the same time.

I went on to get ready for bed, noticing Soda watching me in the bathroom mirror's reflection. He was giving me goosebumps, so I shut the door. By now, they had all seen my better build so I didn't know what he was ogling me for. I shaved my face when I was done brushing my teeth, then noticed a thin dark hair line starting to creep up from my nether- regions toward my belly button.

_Hmm. I hadn't noticed that before. Maybe that's what Soda saw._ Both he and Darry had one of their own, as did Two-Bit and Steve. It was just a hair line, just about every guy had one, so it was no big deal. I quit wondering and went to bed, my thoughts happily returning to Hollis.

"Night, Sodapop." I called, once I was under my covers.

He came to my doorway. "Night, Ponyboy. Sleep good, kiddo. Love ya."

I rolled my eyes in the darkness. Whatever Soda was on, he either needed to spread it around or get off it. Too much sweetness from him was gonna make me sick!

XXX

**Skipping ahead to Friday**

**XXX**

"You noticed anything weird going on with Sodapop?" Two-Bit asked me. I looked at him and shrugged.

"Nope. Why?"

"Dunno. He's just been more mellow here for the last few days. How was he at work?"

"Look, Two-Bit, I ain't the guys personal spy. He works. I work. Believe it or not... we actually _work_ when we go to work. He handles the pumps and draws in the customers, I fix the wrecks that come in. Maybe you should try it. There ain't as much downtime as you think."

"Aww, c'mon now, Steve. I've seen you and Soda 'working'. You guys goof off as much as the boss lets you. You ain't fooling me."

"That may be, but I ain't keeping tabs on Soda. Why? What've you heard?"

"I ain't heard squat. He's just more quiet than normal. Makes me feel... I dunno... like something's up."

I looked over the compound and saw the kid heading over. "Beats me, Two-Bit. You want answers on Soda, there's the kid - ask him."

"Hey Steve, Two-Bit." The kid hopped in the back of my car and I headed over to the Sandwich Shop and Deli.

"Hey Pone, say, Soda feeling sick or something?"

I watched as the kid's face contemplated Two-Bit's question, then shook his head. "Nope. Why?"

"Just wondering. Hey," Two-Bit's face suddenly lit up, an idea obviously taking hold, "has he finally got a lady?"

The kid chuckled, feigning an itchy nose to hide it. "No. If he's seeing someone, I haven't heard the news on that. How bout it, Steve? Soda seeing anyone?"

"Kid, do I look like I keep up with your brother's love life?"

"You would, if he had one." he mocked me back. I had to grin at that one, cause he'd be right.

"He's just got to meet the _right_ one, see; that's all." Two-Bit yammered on, all gleeful and animated. "Someone who puts out when the putting out is needed, who's got a sense of humor but sensitive. Someone...."

"Hey Two-Bit, I _am_ back here, remember? I really don't want to hear the features of the imaginary lady you're trying to hook my brother up with."

"Maybe you should listen to the free advice, kid. Ain't like you got a gal either." I drawled. _He wouldn't know what to do with one, even if he had one. Probably read sonnets to her or some shit like that._

I was expecting a retort of some kind, but silence came from the backseat. A very unusual silence. I had to look. The kid had his head laid back on the seat, a dreamy look on his face. I grumbled and stomped the brakes real quick for a second. He instantly lurched forward, breaking him from his daze.

"Hey!" he stuttered.

"Geeze, Steve, trying to kill us?" Two-Bit chimed in, bracing himself against the dashboard.

"Stop that fantasizing in my car, kid. I don't want the seats messed up."

"Oh yeah, I forgot... you _do_ have a gal. That _senorita_!" Two-Bit drawled, looking over at Pony behind him.

"Her name's Linda, and she's _just_ a friend." The kid stated rather matter of factly.

"Yeah, and that _friend_ lives hours away, so you _still _ain't got a chance. _Or_ a clue. Now get out of my car and go eat."

Everyone got out and headed inside. I got something and sat down, thinking about it. Now that Two-Bit had mentioned it, Soda _had_ seemed off. I gave it a good two minutes then shook my head. Had to be the stress of working over at Station 21. That place would make anyone act weird for no reason.

XXX

I couldn't help being all discombobulated. Darry had confirmed that I could go to Mrs. Nixon's for the weekend. Soda was working at the that horrid station 21 again this weekend and Darry was having to work all day at his regular job. He was calling off from the warehouse just to help ease the strain Soda and Steve were feeling around closing time, but couldn't call off from his regular day job. I could tell Soda was bugged, he'd been acting all out of sorts for a while about it. I'd be glad when this assignment was done, so we could get back to normal.

I had skipped track. Coach gave me the nod and I ran off to hop in the car with Steve who was giving me a ride home. Waiting back at home was a surprise.

"Hello, Ponyboy!"

My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Mrs. Nixon was sitting in my living room, Two-Bit regaling her with stories about the last few months of our lives.

"Mrs. Nixon! Wow, I'm uh, I'm _shocked!_ I thought one of the guys was taking me. Where's Alex?"

She laughed, drawing me into a hug and setting me back to look at me. "She's with Melissa and her girls this evening for a sleepover. It's really too long of a drive for her to get here and back, and besides, I figured after a long drive back, you'd need a peaceful evening to rest up. Tomorrow I've got a busy day scheduled. Casper's needing a bath, his stall needs cleaning and afterward, I thought you and me, and a few others would like to go to the county fair. What do you think?"

I couldn't grin wide enough. "Awesome!" I ignored the snickers coming from Two-Bit and Steve behind me.

She laughed. "Good, go pack. Don't forget your boots, if you still have them."

"Yes ma'am." I hurried to my room, packing enough clothes for three days even though I wasn't supposed to be gone that long. However, cleaning stalls and riding does tend to make a person smell like a horse. I'd like to have something decent to wear that smelled, well, not so manure- like. I was back in the living room five minutes later.

"Ready?" She asked, keys in hand.

"Yeah, just let me call Soda, tell him I'm leaving."

She headed out to wait by her car. He was supposed to be off today since he has to work the weekend, but they had a call out and, as Steve's only a part-timer who's still in school in the daytime, Soda was forced in. He grumbled about it, but muttered the magic word, "overtime," so he went in. I called the station and Soda answered.

"Hey Soda!" I said a tad too happily.

He laughed. "Hey Pone. What's got you all giddy?"

I tried to calm down some. "Nothing. Mrs. Nixon's here. I guess I'm gone for the weekend. I'll see ya Sunday."

"You behave yourself. You um, you think you're gonna see Linda?"

_I hope so._ "Dunno. Mrs. Nixon's taking me to the fair Saturday night."

"Well, kiddo, if you see her, you better behave as if we were watching. Catch my drift?"

Despite the laughter in his voice, I knew he was serious. "Yeah, I know. I got to go. Bye!" I started to hang up, but I heard his voice in the receiver calling me. "Yeah?"

"I'm gonna miss you. I love you, Ponyboy. Take care, kiddo."

"Aw, c'mon, I ain't gonna be gone but the weekend! You won't even have time to miss me. Anyway, I love you too, Sodapop. I really got to go now. Bye." I hung up the phone in a rush, bolting out to hop in her car. I'd been eager to get back to Hollis for a while.

"Ready?" Mrs. Nixon asked me.

"You bet!" Two-Bit was leaning in my window, ruffling my hair.

"Take care, kid. See ya Sunday."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	19. A Homecoming Of Sorts

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 19

**A Homecoming Of Sorts**

XXX

"So how's everything been? How's Casper? Haven't gotten a new work hand yet?"

"Whoa, Ponyboy! Goodness, so full of questions! Everything is fine. Busy as usual. Alex is in kindergarten now and is trying to learn her letters, and excited about Halloween coming up, like all the kids are. Other than that, she's the same feisty little girl you last saw. She appreciates the pictures you've mailed her. She always comes running in when the mail gets to the house, ever so delighted to have something in the box for her. You've been monumentally sweet to remember her."

"I like her. She's a good kid." I did like Alex. She reminds me of what it is to laugh. When you're only six, the only problems you could have is that your shoes don't fit. She hasn't found out about hate, or the pain one person can cause another. The only pain I think she's ever felt was the loss of her father. "Does she know I'm coming to visit?"

"No. I didn't want to get her hopes up then have something happen and Darrel have to cancel your visit. How are _you_ doing in school? When we last talked on the phone, you were mentioning basketball?"

"I made the team. Practice won't start until after the holidays, but coach wanted us to form up now so we can get our uniforms and shoes in."

"Are you done with track? Wasn't that your sport last year?"

"Oh no, I'm still doing track. After basketball season ends, then track season will be swinging into action."

"And your grades?"

I looked at her. She sounded a lot like Darry, but nicer. "All honors."

She beamed. "That's great news."

We talked for a long time about everything under the sun... everything except the _only _thing I wanted to ask about. In a way, I felt that asking would be inappropriate. She wasn't Linda's mother. I had no right to even think Linda would still be waiting for me. Knowing a real relationship was all but impossible put the kibosh on everything but my feelings for her. Those hadn't changed. I still wanted to see her, if it was possible.

When we were closer to her house, maybe thirty minutes out, talk had run dry and the sun had begun to set already. The trip was tiring to me, but Mrs. Nixon drove on as if she were a trucker. I didn't like being cooped up for long road trips. She looked over again and smiled, her jaw setting square. It was the same look Darry gave me when he wanted to talk about something serious.

"You haven't asked, I'm surprised."

My thoughts had run away from me and I thought I'd missed something. "I'm sorry?"

"You haven't asked about Linda. I'd have thought you would have by now."

I felt my face go hot. "I, uh... I wasn't sure if I should. I mean, I didn't want to get my hopes up, I guess. How uh, how is she?"

"She's fine. I told her I was coming to get you, and she seemed... _delighted ... _about that. I invited her over for a late dinner tonight, I hope you won't mind. You know she's been my assistant on the ranch on the weekends, right?"

I nodded. "Yes ma'am. You told me on the phone."

"Oh yes, that's right."

I looked at Mrs. Nixon, wanting to ask more, but caught my thoughts before they escaped. I'd get my answers soon enough. My heart thunked away in my chest, racing with thoughts that wouldn't stay put.

"Well, we're here." She pulled back into her yard and parked the car. I noticed a light was on inside, and I couldn't help smiling. It felt so good to be back.

"Get your bag. I have your room ready for you, so you go on in and rest up a bit. I'm going to call Melissa and check on Alex, then I'll get dinner ready."

She went inside and a moment later, I followed. The house hadn't really changed much. I was surprised to find a framed picture of me on the wall, just below Alex's. I recognized it, it was one where I had been riding Casper in the rodeo last summer. I guessed I'd ridden right past her and never saw the flash. Seeing the photo made me feel welcome here in ways I couldn't describe. As I stood there looking at it, I heard someone come into the room from behind me. The person stood there, saying nothing, waiting for me to turn around, but I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Linda?"

"Welcome back." Her soft voice sounded almost like a kitten's purr.

I turned to see her. She was wearing a dark green shirt with denim pants, her hair pulled up on either side of her head with barrettes. She was smiling some, like she was trying to hide a real grin that wanted to come out. Hesitating, I took a step or two toward her, my hand twitching at my side. I felt stupid all of a sudden.

"Thanks. I've, um... I've missed you."

Her smile widened. Just as she was about to say something else, Mrs. Nixon's voice fluttered into the room. "Ponyboy, Linda.... dinner."

Linda giggled some, then reached over and took my hand, leading me to the kitchen. "I hope you're hungry, I made stew. Apparently, I'm not as good a cook as you are cause she rarely asks me to prepare anything. However, since she had to go to Tulsa, she made the taste-bud sacrifice and handed the keys to the kitchen to me. You don't have to eat it, though, if you don't like it. You won't hurt my feelings."

_Her hand in mine_. Whatever else she said was lost to me. I simply nodded and followed. The three of us sat and served ourselves. It was good, but even I had to admit, silently, that Darry's stew was better. He puts in more stuff and his broth was thicker, meatier; but still - this was fine. After that long road trip, I was famished. I spent the first half of dinner just looking at her eyes, admiring their sparkle. Eventually I started paying attention to more of what was being said. Linda talked about school and the things she's been doing since I'd left. She asked about my schoolwork, and seemed happy that I was on the honors list.

"I always knew you were smart. I bet you'd give these country bumpkins out here who think they're all that a taste of reality."

I squirmed. "I'm sure it's the same stuff. I don't try to make too much of my grades. They're just numbers. It's what you do in life that matters."

"Here here! Well said!" Mrs. Nixon exclaimed. Both Linda and I looked at each other and simultaneously started giggling after half a second of silence. I guess both of us had forgotten she was here.

"Well, Linda, that was a fine dinner. There's cake in the fridge, you two help yourselves. Linda, I think your father will be here to get you in a half hour or so. Can you two handle dishes? I'm going to go check on the horses one last time before bed."

"Sure, Mrs. Nixon," I said.

"My pleasure," echoed Linda.

She left, and suddenly I realized we were in the house, totally alone. For the last three months, I'd thought over and over of what I'd do if this situation had happened; substituting myself as the strong dominant male hero in the various books I'd read over the years - and now, here I was, reluctant to do _anything_. So much for me being anything even remotely close to a Casanova. Yup, I'm a whuss.

She carried some dishes into the kitchen and started the sink, filling it first with hot soapy water. I followed along, words stumbling out of my mouth on their own accord.

"I've thought about you a lot since I left." I said carefully, testing the waters.

"I've thought about you, too. It was a good summer for me, not so much for you though, I'm sure." She smiled as she scraped a plate into the trash.

"Well, the start wasn't so great, and the whack on the head towards the end wasn't something I'd want to remember either. I do hope they've fired that bus driver by now, too. Other than that, well, I liked the rest of it." I answered, scraping another plate then rinsing it off to let slide into the hot sudsy water. Standing there next to her, I could smell the faint scent of vanilla in her hair. Her shampoo, more than likely. That or someone recently spilled vanilla extract somewhere in the kitchen. Knowing the way Mrs. Nixon likes to bake, it was a toss-up.

"There were some parts of it I wished I could do over again." She murmured with a smile on her lips.

"Me too. In fact, I've replayed some parts over and over in my head so many times, the tape's bout worn out."_ Damn! Too much. Way too much!_

She'd side stepped an inch closer to me, surprising me. Now there wasn't hardly any room between us. Dishes didn't seem this complicated back home.

"Are you seeing anyone?" I boldly asked. Damn, that really wasn't any of my business, but I wasn't sure what else to ask. Besides, there really wasn't much point in getting myself all worked up for nothing.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head softly.

She washed one plate, I noticed the way she held the sponge against the china dipped half way into the white, sudsy, hot water; making slow, methodical circles with just enough friction to clean it before rinsing it clean under the cool water from the faucet. It was making me dizzy.

"How bout you? Any ladies caught your eye?" she asked in a somewhat dreamy tone.

"No, I've um.. been busy with school. 'Sides, there ain't any girls in my neck of the woods worth seeing. Those who haven't been taken already usually have their noses so stuck up in the air, they can't remember what their feet look like anymore." I took the plate from her, sticking it in the drying rack and moved back to the table, creating some distance while putting the stuff left out on the table away. "It ain't worth my time or energy to mess with that."

"Sounds like some of our school jocks. They act like their such hot stuff, walking around wearing their varsity jackets. I'd hate to remind them, but they've only won one game so far this season. That isn't such a great record to brag about as far as I'm concerned! I'd be embarrassed."

"My school's done a bit better, but not by much."

"I know. Your school's three and two."

I looked at her, surprised. "How'd you know that?" We weren't in the same district.

She blushed. "I sort of looked it up, at the library. They get the Tulsa Herald there."

I was thinking about what she said, distracted while putting the crackers back in the cabinet and turned around, meaning to get a sponge to wipe the counter when I guess she was turning to go in my direction. End result put us slamming into each other, accidentally of course.

"Shoot, Linda, I'm sorry," I said, her own "Oops, Ponyboy, didn't see ya," overlapping me. I stepped back, Linda doing the same. I felt myself get all hot in the face, only able to see the tip of my nose turning beet red. She was blushing heavily herself, smiling with eyes alive as if given some massive gift.

I don't know what I was thinking, but my hands wouldn't behave themselves. She stood stock still as I brushed her powder soft cheek with my finger, lifting slightly on her jaw to have her look up at me, then carefully, slowly, brushed my lips to hers. Surprisingly, I felt them move back against my own. It was only the faintest of touches, my lips to hers, but after I pulled away, I could taste the faint remains of her lip gloss. Sweet, like strawberries. And to think, I hadn't cared much for that fruit before.

She hesitated a moment and pulled away, putting something in the cabinet behind me.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have...." _Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!_

"No, don't be. I wasn't sure if...." she fell silent. I wanted to go to her, but felt since she was the one to move away, I felt I shouldn't go chasing.

"If... what?" I asked after several seconds of tense silence.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe if you liked me or not." She stepped a bit closer to me, studying me.

"I do. Like you, that is."_ Lordy, Linda... I like you so much I can't think straight._

Her cheeks were red, as if I'd embarrassed her. Her hand came up and softly traced my jaw, making tingles run up my spine at the sensation. "You started shaving?"

Now it was my turn to blush crimson. "Yup. You like?" I rubbed the other side of my jaw for emphasis while her hand lingered on the other side of my face.

"I do. Now, if you'd just do something about your hair."

That broke the mood. I laughed and backed away some.

"What? What'd I say?" She held amused confusion in her eyes.

"I told you last time I was here. The guys in my neighborhood wear our hair long."

"Hmmm. Well, I don't get it. You look better with you hair a bit shorter."

I gave her a sideways look. "Really?"

"_Yes,_ really." She was serious. I didn't think so, but I had to admit, it had been neater when it was shorter.

I sighed. "Fine. If I have time tomorrow, I'll ask if Mrs. Nixon can take me over to the barbers for a haircut, but only on one condition."

"And what's that?" she teased.

I pulled her in my arms with a bit more gumption, shocking her, but she didn't protest either. It was the first time I'd ever held a gal. Feeling her body pressed against mine – I sort of liked it. She didn't pull away, but looked at me oddly.

"You gotta tell me if you like me or not."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "_Really,_ Ponyboy. You didn't strike me as the dense type. Of course I like you. Can't you tell?" I held her close in my arms, feeling her breath on my face as she spoke. Hot and sweet. It sent off a ripple effect in me, a cascading warmth I'd never felt before. I had to let her go. As I broke the embrace and turned away, the front door opened and Mrs. Nixon came in, talking with some man who followed her in.

"Yes, George... the stew was good. Honest. She'll get better, but it _was_ good."

"Maybe you can teach her some of your other meals, get her better in the kitchen. Hey Linda, you bout ready to go?"

"Hey Daddy. Yes... just let me get my jacket. Um, Daddy, this is Ponyboy Curtis. I don't think you've met him. Ponyboy, this is my father, George McDougal."

_Oh. God._ At the word "Daddy," I thought I'd die. If he'd come in a moment earlier and caught me with my arms around his daughter, that tree from last summer wouldn't have done a fraction of the damage I'm sure he would have done.

Manners overtook me. I stumbled forward, holding out my hand. "Pleasure, sir." I said as I shook his. He shook it back, tightly and strong.

"Ponyboy, I heard you had an interesting summer here. Glad to see you're better. How old are you, son?"

"Fifteen." I answered. I had no worries that any hint of a romantic interest between me and his daughter showed. All my blood had fallen into my feet. I was scared to death.

"Fifteen, huh? That's an interesting age. Well, it's getting late. Goodnight, Ponyboy, Agnes."

"Night George. See you tomorrow, Linda."

She turned to see me before she followed her father out the door.

"Bye, Ponyboy. Night, Mrs. Nixon."

The door closed and they were gone. I turned back to the dishes, taking over where Linda left off. There wasn't much left to be done.

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Nixon muttered. "Her parents are always fussing about her cooking. It's not _that_ bad, just needs a zing or two. I've been working with her. She'll get better. How bout you, any new recipes in your repertoire?"

"Only grilled stuff. Darry, Soda and I built a new grill after we got back. I gave Darry a bunch of different grill designs. He liked a few, but one really stuck out. We spent a week building it. It's made of brick and mortar, so it isn't going anywhere."

"Well, it's too cold to do too much outdoor grilling right now, and too late tonight to even discuss it. Are you about done?"

I looked around, making sure nothing was left out. "Yep." I finally got around to wiping the counters and the table, making sure everything was put up. I let the water out as she went to the living room to shut the lights off and lock the doors. I grabbed my bag and headed upstairs, Mrs. Nixon following along.

"I'm glad you're here, Ponyboy. I've missed you. Are things okay back at your home. Darry and Soda doing okay?"

I nodded. "Yes ma'am. Soda's having to put in hours at another station this month and they're both worried about it. It's a station known for problems. But we're doing our best, as usual."

"Well, that's all anyone can ask. Are you still playing the piano?"

I smiled, embarrassed for the umpteenth time tonight. "I have to admit, I've been playing more than I used to."

She smiled. "You're talented. Shouldn't waste it. Well..." she started, yawning, "mmhmm, excuse me! As I was saying, get some sleep. The horses and cattle need to be tended to in the morning. Dawn will be here sooner than you think. I've put extra blankets on your bed, just in case you get cold. Night, Ponyboy. Sleep well, honey."

"I will. Thanks."

I got my stuff out to get ready for bed then went to brush my teeth. When I was done, I slid back under the covers of the small bed in the small room, then stared up at the moon high in the sky. My thoughts were random, wondering how Soda and Darry were for a few brief minutes, then drifted back to earlier tonight, feeling Linda's arms around me and that sweet aroma of her faint kiss on my lips. A flash of exaltation swept through me, she liked me! Damn!

I was certain to sleep well tonight.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	20. Sunsets To Remember

A/N: Lots of kissing in this chapter. Lip balm advised for the weak of lip. Sorry to those who disapprove.

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 20

**Sunsets To Remember**

XXX

I stretched, feeling oddly content. I hadn't felt this way in a long time. Wafting up to my room was the smell of bacon, mingling with hot cocoa and a few other sweet unknowns. I pulled the covers off and slipped on a pair of jeans and a sweat shirt then headed downstairs.

"Morning, Ponyboy!" Mrs. Nixon said as she gave me a heartfelt hug. "Sleep well?"

I smiled, vividly remembering my dream. It was one I wouldn't be able to tell her, but one of the best I'd ever had. "Yes, thanks. What can I do to help?"

"It's all done, help yourself. I've got eggs, oatmeal, sausage and biscuits. I remember you don't like coffee, so I made you some hot chocolate. Eat up. Linda should be here in a bit. Once she's had breakfast, we usually go up to the barn to get started. Alex will get here anytime too, so help me listen out for Melissa's car."

"Sure thing." I fixed a plate and wolfed it down, remembering a promise I'd made yesterday. "Mrs. Nixon, if there's time, could you take me up to the barbers for a haircut?"

She glanced over at me. "Certainly." I could tell she wanted to say something more, but didn't.

I hesitated over my plate a moment, wanting to get something off my mind. "Mrs. Nixon, do you regret that I didn't stay?" The notion had been bugging me. It's hard feeling like you belong in two separate worlds.

She came and put her arms around me. From any other woman, this might bother me. From her though, it was welcomed. Motherly.

"Ponyboy, since meeting you, I've seen how special you are. I've missed you, yes; but I would never take you away from your brothers. You made the right decision last summer. I could never replace your brothers, nor would I want to. They love you endlessly. Never doubt that."

I sighed. "Thanks."

"I have no idea what's keeping her, she's usually here by now. Well, daylights burning and I'm already late. The horses will be grumpy enough. I'm going to head on up."

I finished my breakfast and washed my plate. "I'll go too."

We headed up and got the pitchforks and wheelbarrows, starting at opposite ends mucking out the stalls. Casper saw me from the paddock, whinnying some and swooshing his tail. I slipped a carrot I'd swiped from the kitchen to him and patted his neck.

"Hey boy, I've missed you too. We'll go for a ride later, gotta go earn my keep first."

We had the stalls done by the time I heard a car pull in down by the house. A few minutes later, Linda came into view. I couldn't help the flutter my heart felt when I saw her.

"Sorry I'm late. Things were a mess back home. Morning, Ponyboy!"

I grinned at her. "Back at ya." I wanted to do more, but by now, I was covered in, well, _stuff,_ and besides, I don't think Mrs. Nixon wanted to see any displays. Grinning for now would have to do.

"That's alright. We're bout finished here. If you two want to start washing the horses, I'll go tend to the cattle. When that's finished, Ponyboy mentioned wanting a haircut, and I have some things to get in town. And please, keep an ear out for Alex. She's running late too."

"No problem, Mrs. Nixon."

She headed out towards the tractor and I put away the pitchforks and wheelbarrows. Linda headed off to catch Clementine and lead her into the washing stall. Working together got the work done faster, but I seemed to be getting considerably more wet sooner than I'd anticipated. I'd be scrubbing her coat when a sudden stream of water would "miss" the horse and hit me.

"Hey, watch it!" I yelled the first time. I looked under Clementine's neck and saw Linda holding the hose, smiling sheepishly and turning an adorable shade of pink.

"Oops. Sorry!"

I bought it the first time, but when a second cold shower of water hit my backside, I knew it wasn't quite so accidental.

"That's it." I dropped the scrubbing pads and took off, Linda shrieking and trying to outrun me. Like she ever had a chance. I tackled her and together we went rolling in the grass. I ended up on top of her, dripping water and dead grass onto her before sliding off to her side. She was giggling too much for me to do anything but laugh back.

At least, that's how it was for a moment. Then the situation switched in an instant. I stopped laughing, although the feelings I had were still quite joyful. I held my breath as I stared down into her eyes, smiling. She was smiling back, her eyes unblinking. I felt her arms snaking along my soaked shirt and fingers plying into my back, pulling me closer. I didn't fight, not even entertaining the idea of resistance.

Until a car sounded on the driveway.

In a blinding flash, Linda and I were both on our feet. One of the car doors opened and out came Alex.

"Ponyboy!"

Her shrill shriek caused all the horses in the paddock to turn their heads, and in the stall, Clementine pulled on her harness. Alex came running at me full speed and wrapped her arms around my waist, grinning ear to ear. Linda turned and headed back to the wash stall.

"Didja come back to stay? I missed you! Does mama know you're here? Guess what I'm gonna be for Hallo...!"

"Hold on, squirt! I've missed you too! Yes, your mom knows I'm here, but I'm only here for the weekend." I waved at the driver who had brought Alex home, recognizing the car as the one belonging to the cop's wife, Melissa. She waved back and disappeared.

Alex's pout was funny. I bent down to her level. "I came to see how you were doing with Casper. So far, he looks good. Now, is Charley being nice to you?"

"He's not in my class. I'm in Mrs. Bitner's class, he's in Mrs. Jordan's. I only gets to see him on the playground. It's better this way."

She was so serious and matter-of-fact that I started laughing.

"Well, squirt, sometimes that's the way the cookie crumbles. Now, I gotta finish the horses, you go play. And stay out of trouble!"

"You're baking them too long." She said rather matter of factly, her hands on her little hips.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"If the cookies are crumbling, you're baking them too long. Dat's what mama says."

I got it then, and had to admit she was right. Overbaked cookies crumble, but that wasn't what I meant. It only added to her irresistible charm.

"You go on and stay out of trouble!" I said, giving up.

"Okay, Ponyboy!" She headed back to the house and I watched as she let herself in. Once the door shut, I returned to the wash stall where Linda was leading a finished Clementine back to the paddock.

"Who's next?" I asked.

"How bout Ivory? She's easy to clean."

We settled down into the work, rinsing, scrubbing, then rinsing again until Ivory was done. One at a time, the horses were led in, washed then sent back to the paddock. Casper was last. He kept nipping on my shirt every time I got close to his head.

"I do believe he's missed me." I said after the fourth nip.

"He sure doesn't act that way around me! But then, I've missed you too."

When we were done washing Casper, I led him to the paddock and climbed on using the fence to hoist myself up. I was already soaking wet, so it didn't matter. Curling my hands in his mane, we went for a quick trot around the paddock and out onto the field. I had to use my legs wrapped around him to stay on, as I was riding bareback. He wasn't all that painful to ride, his withers being less angled. After a few laps, I pulled up on his mane and dismounted, patting his neck. He nudged me with his strong head, a complaint, I'm sure.

"Sorry, boy, but I gotta go clean up too. You go play."

I headed to the house. Mrs. Nixon was inside, already cleaned up.

"Linda's in the shower down here. When you're ready, we'll go to town."

It didn't take me long; I was showered and shaved in no time. When I came downstairs, Linda, Alex and Mrs. Nixon were there, watching Alex do a floor puzzle of the United States. She was good at those.

"Ready?"

I nodded.

"Good. Alright everyone. In the car. Linda, you're up front with me. Alex, you can ride with Ponyboy in the backseat, but remember your seatbelt.

Mother's instincts. I wondered if she could smell the hormones!

The barber shop wasn't busy, and surprisingly, the barber remembered me.

"Hey, Ponyboy! How've ya been, son?"

"Good, sir. Thanks. I'm uh, surprised you remembered me."

"Well now, we don't get many repeat visitors from Tulsa out this way all that often, and you got yourself a name that just won't let go of the ol' noggin. Sides, the stories Doc and the Sheriff go on about concerning your summer with us keeps you fresh in my mind. Who wouldn't remember you?"

I stared at him. Good lord, it was Floyd, right out of Mayberry.

"What can I do fer ya? Want the same cut as last time?"

"Uh, yeah. That'd be great."

It wasn't made up, he actually did remember me, or at least the way he cut my hair. It looked just like it had then. I paid him, he patted my shoulder and as I was leaving, he called out,

"See ya in another four months."

I wondered if he was right about that too. While I was busy feeling like a stand in on the _Andy Griffith Show_, the ladies had all gone to the clothing store across the street. It was the same one Mrs. Nixon had been at last summer, and when I found them, I noticed two more pairs of jeans in my size were in the cart along with a very nice men's jacket that suspiciously looked like it would fit me. I said nothing, knowing it would only insult her if I protested her kindness.

After Alex had been fitted with a new fall jacket and shoes, we left to grab a quick bite to eat. A few minutes after ordering, we were all sitting around a steel picnic table eating - Alex munching absentmindedly on her sandwich while Mrs. Nixon was telling us of her plans.

"We'll head over to the fair around two. Make sure you wear good shoes for lots of walking. Ponyboy, I'll give you some money for food – don't bother saying 'no' about it, either. Linda, will you need money?"

"No thanks. I've got a bit saved up. Enough for a good time."

"Good. Alex, honey, be careful with that drink." Alex was trying to hold her cup with one hand while holding her sandwich in the other.

"I gots it, mama."

"Anyway, we'll stay at the fair until everyone is either out of money or energy. You two just remember, I'll have Alex with me, and she doesn't have the stamina of a teenager yet."

I looked at Alex, who pouted at her mother as if Mrs. Nixon had said something bad. In her pout, she lost her grip and the cherry red drink splattered across the table. I was able to jump out of the way of the gushing fluid, but Linda wasn't so lucky. It poured right into her lap.

"Aigh!" Linda jumped up as the drink soaked her clothes. She grabbed as many napkins as she could, but there was no fixing it.

"Alexandra! Honey, I _told _you to hold that cup!" Mrs. Nixon admonished.

"I sorry!" Alex said, tears in her eyes.

"That's … no, don't worry about it, Alex, it's ... um, okay," Linda stuttered, wiping fruitlessly.

Alex held onto me, worry etched on her small face. I gave her a hug. As many times as I've been called a klutz, spilled stuff and wrecked stuff; I understood. It hurts when you're so young that you don't understand that accidents happen even to the best of us.

Mrs. Nixon got up. "Come on, lets get you to your house so you can change and soak those spots before stains set in."

I tossed the trash away and followed everyone to the car. The ride was mostly silent.

"Are your parents at home?" Mrs. Nixon asked.

"No, Dad's at work, Mom's out of town for a week."

"You have your key?"

"Uh huh."

Not long later, we pulled up to a two story white house with black shutters. Pecan trees grew on either side of it. We all got out and followed Linda in, who headed straight for the stairs.

"Is there a bathroom around I can use?" I asked.

"Up here. Come on, I'll show you." Linda called as she made her way up.

I followed her and went where she directed me. It was a typical bathroom – except for the nylons hanging over the shower rod. I remembered to put the seat down when I was finished. In the toothbrush holder were two toothbrushes, a blue one and a pink one. I remembered she said her mother was out of town, so I guessed hers was the pink one.

"Psst! Ponyboy!"

I heard my name get called in a shrill whisper down the hall and followed it. Mrs. Nixon was busy with Alex downstairs and apparently hadn't heard Linda's beckoning. She was in her room, clothes already changed but motioning me over. Every cell in my body said -_ "nope, that ain't where you need to get caught,"_ but as usual, I ignored logic and went anyway. I'd never been in a girls room before, Alex's and Mrs. Nixon's didn't count, and I was honestly curious.

The room was … well, girly. A white twin-sized bed with a few flowers painted on the headboard was pushed against the far corner, matching dresser and mirror along one wall, a bookshelf in a corner and a night table by the bed; a lamp with painted daisy's on the shade sat atop it. She had a desk, overflowing with papers and school books that looked strangely like the way I'd kept mine when I was sharing a room with Soda. Her bed wasn't made, yellow flowery sheets and what looked like a Raggedy Ann blanket lay gnarled every which way on top. Assorted clothes lay here and there, including a -gulp- discarded bra hanging over the foot of her bed. I doubt she knew I'd seen it. She was too busy fussing about her hair.

"Mrs. Nixon said you french braided Alex's hair months ago at the rodeo. Can you do mine? Please?"

She shoved a brush at me, and I nodded. She sat in her chair in front of the mirror and I started in, hurrying so I wouldn't get caught in here. I'd revel at how soft her hair felt later, right now, I was too concerned I was gonna get busted for being in Linda's room. I worked fast, and when I was done, it certainly wasn't anything to have pictures made of, but she seemed to like it. _Thanks, Mom,_ I thought. All that time watching her do this had finally paid off.

"Thanks." She said, taking the brush away and tossing it on her dresser.

"You're welcome." I looked around again. "Nice room."

"It's a mess, I know. Dad gets so mad with me cause I leave it like this. It may be a mess, but I never can find anything when I do clean it. So, we've compromised. I close my door, and he doesn't say much about it."

"Hmm." I couldn't help that my eyes wandered back to the bra. Other mental pictures wouldn't leave me alone. She gave me a funny look and turned her head to see what I was staring at.

"Oh, good lord!" She snatched it up and tossed it in a drawer. By now I was scarlet. "Sorry. I, uh, guess I really _should_ clean up."

"Hey, it's your room."

"Yup," she said as she sidled up next to me, stopping only when we were inches apart. "... my room." I didn't move, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights of a Mack truck and just stood there, waiting for it to hit, knowing it would but unable to move out of the way. I_ wanted_ it to hit. In some ways, I had been secretly begging it to.

Her breath was so sweet. I could feel my heart beating away in my chest as her lips met mine. My hands softly ran up her arms and across her back, my fingers feeling through the material of her shirt to the bra clasp in the middle of her back. I let my hand trail up to the nape of her neck, tracing small circles in it as our lips mashed together then finally parted, allowing me to taste her tongue. It danced with mine, until footsteps on the stairs got our attention and instantly we broke apart. She snatched a book from her dresser and shoved it in my hands.

"Here, you can keep it if you want; I don't read it much. Not my style. I've tried... oh, hey Mrs. Nixon. I was showing Ponyboy some of my books. I hope we weren't taking too long. Look, he even french braided my hair! Whaddya think?"

She eyed us suspiciously but appeared to buy it. Linda was good at lying. _Scary_ good. A consummate actress. Even I wasn't _that_ good.

"Looks nice. Did you get your clothes in the wash to get the stains out yet?"

"Yes, they're in the washer already. I think I got to them in time, the red seemed to rinse out in the water before I added the soap."

"Well that's a relief. That's one of your nicer shirts. I do hope Alex didn't ruin it."

The ladies were headed downstairs so I followed along. I looked at the title of the book that had been thrust in my hands. _Canterbury Tales. _It was one of Darry's books that I had tried to read a year ago when I was stuck in bed. It wasn't anything I'd want to suffer through again, either, but I took it with me anyway. I'd have to ask if she wanted her book back later.

XXX

The fair was great. It was far too public a place to even considering kissing her, but her eyes shined at mine none the less. Mrs. Nixon didn't wander as far away from us as I thought she would have. Perhaps she was on to us, but at least she didn't say anything.

Alex and I went through the Kiddie Fun House and later rode the Tiny Tot Ferris Wheel. She squealed with delight at the Munchkin Roller Coaster. Linda, Alex and I later slid down the Monster Slide on scratchy pieces of burlap. The best ride was the Himalayan. Linda and I went on that three times back to back to back while Mrs. Nixon and Alex watched and ate popcorn. It was the only time I didn't have to explain why her body was continuously pressed up against mine, but when your zipped around like a human centrifuge, you can't really help it. I did try to involve myself with Alex as much as I could though, finding rides and games she and I could do together, knowing how easy it would be to monopolize all my time with Linda if I let it go unchecked.

Not that I ignored her. We went on almost everything out here. The admission ticket paid for everything. Everyone had a blast. Hunger set in after a while, so eventually we settled down and hunted for real food.

Thick, chewy pretzels were had, as well as cotton candy for Alex who - five minutes into it, Mrs. Nixon was taking it away from her 'cause she was sticky from head to toe. While Mrs. Nixon had her in the bathroom washing the sugar off, I licked the salt off my fingers and gazed at Linda.

"You're going back tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Yep. She's taking me back in the afternoon sometime."

Her hand slid into mine. I held it back, feeling her warmth. "I wish you could stay longer," she sighed.

"Me too. This is the hardest part, knowing as good as it is, that I have to give it up. I have to give _you_ up again."

"You'll never have to give me up, Ponyboy, no matter how far apart we are. That isn't any idiotic hormonal teenage pledge either. I mean it."

"This isn't gonna be easy. We're too far apart. If you change your mind, I'll..."

"Shut up, Ponyboy. If you doubt my sincerity, you shouldn't have kissed me in the first place."

I looked at her, shocked. "Me? You kissed me first!"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"When?"

"My birthday, remember?"

She stopped and smiled, settling back down. "Oh yeah, I guess I did. Hmmm, well, waddya know?"

"Come again?" I asked, looking at her closer.

She smiled. "I guess I was wrong. I _did_ kiss you first."

I rolled my eyes, squeezing her hand a bit tighter.

"When will you be back?" Her tone was warm again.

I shrugged. "Dunno. Darry only let me do this because of some family issues with Soda's work. Maybe during the Christmas break. That's usually not so great a time anyway, no matter how hard they try to make it be one."

"Why? What's wrong with Christmas?" She was sitting up higher, looking at me with an astonished expression. I knew what she was thinking, that I was some Scrooge or something. Not so. Not even close. Christmas used to be my absolute favorite holiday, sitting smack in the middle of my favorite season, but she didn't understand. Yet.

"My parents were killed on the 27th. Christmas hasn't really been the same since then."

She loosened her grip. Shock now registered on her face. "Oh God, Ponyboy, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

I shrugged and looked away. "How could you? I never told you that before. I don't talk about it much to anyone really. Anyway, Darry and Soda try to make Christmas good, but it never works. I usually just sit around waiting for it to be over so I can get back to school and dive into track. Maybe this year, they'll let me come back here for Christmas instead. I bet it'd be nice."

"I hope so. I'll bug Mrs. Nixon to have her invite you via Darry."

"Don't bug Mrs. Nixon. I think she's on to us as it is."

"Yeah, she's smart, but realistic too. I've always admired her. She's a great person."

"Speaking of which, here she comes."

Mrs. Nixon and Alex were coming out of the bathroom, Alex looking tired. She wasn't going to be awake for much longer.

"You two have time for one more ride, then I have to get this little lady home."

I looked over at the large ferris wheel. The sun was going down, the sunset starting to glow in multiple hues of red and orange. I took her hand and guided her to the line. As we settled into a booth alone and started to rise, memories of so many things in my past were conjured up. Oddly enough, a sunset was associated with all of them. Her hand delicately squeezed mine and I turned to gaze at her, and everything I had been thinking disappeared. As the wheel did one revolution after another, I didn't think of a single thing besides the gal at my side. As I kissed her again and again, my eyes opened for one split moment to have the most perfect sunset ever burn itself into my memory.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	21. Saturday

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 21

**Saturday**

XXX

Hmmm, while Pony's having fun at the fair, lets see what's happening back in Tulsa .... shall we?

XXX

"Soda, what the hell's wrong with you?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Steve glaring at me, then turned back to the rack of smokes as I restocked the slots of cancer sticks.

"Nothing. Why?"

"Nothing? Bullshit! I've known you since you were eight. I haven't seen you so quiet and mopey in nearly a year, maybe two. Hell, the kids disappearing on us last year was bad, but you weren't this out of it even then. Now what gives? Don't make me beat it outta you."

I considered it, even opened my mouth to tell him. But I thought better of it at the last second and shut it again.

"Really, Steve. It's nothing. Maybe I just need to go get laid or something. Hell, it's been a long time since that's happened too. A whole fucking year." Damn Sandy. Just when I really needed her, she ain't here.

"Hell, if it's getting laid you need, go to Bucks. He's got lots of tramps that'll be happy to service you. You'll spend forever at the clinic getting rid of whatever they leave behind though! But hell, buddy, if you're _that_ desperate....."

"Shut up, Steve. I ain't going to Bucks." I rubbed my head, hating the constant headaches I've been getting lately. Now I know why Pony downs the pills so much. This mess hurts.

"Well, take ten and go service yourself in the john or something. Just, when you come back, be happy damnit! This sad shit you've been pulling is downing me!"

A car pulled up and I slid off the stool I was sitting on. "Yeah, right. Maybe I could … aw, never mind." I headed out to the car, slipped into character, flashed a wide smile and started to ask what I could get them. As soon as I saw who it was, the smile was gone.

Soc's in a brand new Corvette pulled in. The car was balls to the wall in tuffness. Not a ding or scratch anywhere. Inside were four people, two guys with their arms wrapped around some pretty tuff looking ladies of their own. One of the guys I vaguely recognized. I'd bet my last DX paycheck he was the one wielding the knife on Pony in that alley not too long ago.

I pulled out my rag, wiping my hands on it. It was only to keep my fingers busy as I really wanted to wrap them around his thick neck and strangle him dead.

"What can I get you?" I asked in a voice that said there wasn't a damn thing I'd ever get them if my paycheck wasn't depending on it.

"Well, looky here." he said cockily to the dame with the beehive hair-do sitting next to him "See, Brenda, this is what happens when you keep putting axle grease on your hair. Your body absorbs it and eventually it oozes out your pores."

The rest of the assholes in the car started laughing, but the laughter died down as Steve sauntered over, carrying the lit blowtorch.

"Y'all want gas or a tune up?" he asked, looking dangerously at them.

"Come on, Henry, let's go." The chick in the backseat said, obviously ruffled by Steve's glare.

"Later, grease." Henry said.

"We'll be waiting." I called back as they drove off. After they had driven out of site, I turned on Steve.

"Put that thing out. I told you this pump leaks, bastard boss still hasn't fixed it. You wanna get us both killed?"

"Hell, that'd be one hell of a way to go, wouldn't it!" he said laughing as he turned off the torch and headed back to the garage.

"Don't worry, those gook VC have their own fucking ways that are much more painful." I called after him, my anger letting my secret slip. It'd only matter though if he picked up on it. He didn't.

"Whaddya going on about that for, I was only making a freaking joke. Really Sodapop, you gotta lighten up."

I bit my tongue. I had to remind myself that I didn't want him to know for a reason. A very important reason. If he knew, I was certain he'd only join up and follow me. I couldn't risk it. I needed him to stay here and keep Ponyboy and Darry functioning, whether I made it back or... more than likely, not.

Just as Steve and I were headed back in, the familiar rumble of a craptastic car came down the road.

"Man, we really need to fix his wheels. It's getting embarrassing to have that around us." Steve said sullenly.

Now, that actually made me smile.

"Howdy, boys. You guys having fun yet?" Two-Bit and his jalopy pulled in, parking next to Steve's car at the side of the building.

"Two-Bit, please, do us all a favor. Sell that piece of shit for scrap and use the money to buy a bicycle."

"Awe now, come on, Steve. Don't say such things in front of ole' Bessie. She and I have had many wonderful experiences together."

"Yeah, I heard about some of those experiences." I grinned. "If the cars a rockin', don't come a knockin'."

"You got _that_ right, Sodapop. How's the station today? Any problems, or am I just hanging here for fun?"

"Some Soc malcontents came by earlier. You just missed them in fact. Nothing much. Real action usually don't start until closer to closing anyway. Thanks for showing though." Steve was serious for once. This was the wrong place to wave off your friends, and both of us knew it.

"Muscles making a show later?"

I nodded. "Darry said he'd be over later, once he got a bite to eat and called over to Mrs. Nixon's to check on Ponyboy."

"Who wants to bet on whether the kid finally makes it to first base before he comes home?" Two-Bit asked. I whacked him on the back of his head.

"C'mon, this is my _brother_ you're bashing here. Cut it out."

"Precisely my point!" Two-Bit chuckled with a wide grin.

"I got a buck," Steve said, hauling out a dollar.

"You gotta be kidding me!" I stared at him in disbelief.

"Hell Sodapop, he nearly jumped out the truck window waving bye to her last time, don't think we didn't notice. She's got to be hungry for a little tongue by now, even a virgin like the kid should be able to figure it out." Steve laughed, shoving the dollar in Two-Bit's hand.

"So - are you saying he won't, Sodapop, or will? C'mon, you in or out?" Two-Bit was waggling his eyebrows.

"So if I say he won't, then I gotta pay you two jerk-off's if he does?"

"Yep," he said laughing. "This is fun. So which is it?"

I remembered how Ponyboy had acted when he first came home after the summer. Not all that mumbling in his sleep had been caused by nightmares. I wasn't _that _out of touch with what was going on. I shook my head.

"I ain't playing. Not with his... well, not with him. Find something else to bet on." I walked away.

"Chicken!" Two-Bit called.

"Whatever!" I answered back.

XXX

I hung the phone up. I didn't know what was going on, but that was the third time I'd tried to reach the Nixon house and got no answer. I looked at my watch, 5:30. I sighed and scrubbed my face. I had to head on to the station until closing, then when I got back it would be too late to call again. From what I remembered, he would be working on the ranch for most of the morning, cut for a break, see some folks to catch up for a bit, then go to the fair. Why he wasn't at her home answering the phone, I didn't know.

Picking up the receiver, I wanted to try another number, for a more pressing problem.

I'd already tried the recruiters office, they'd just about laughed at me. The school board couldn't do anything for me either. This was it, my last hope. I said a silent prayer as the line rang on the other side.

_"Social Services, How can I help you?"_

"Mrs. O' Donovan, please."

The line went still then Mrs. O' Donovan picked up.

"Afternoon, Mrs. O' Donovan. It's Darrel Curtis. Do you have a minute?"

"_Of course, Darrel. Is everything okay?_"

"No, not really. Ponyboy's fine. Doing well, actually. I'm calling about Sodapop. He got a draft notice, supposed to report this coming week. Is there anything I can do? Anyone I can talk to to get him out of it? I .. _we_ need his paycheck." Not to mention I really need him to stay alive. "Shouldn't he get out of it since he's helping support the family?"

"_Sodapop? Hold on, isn't he still seventeen? Let me get my file...."_

I heard a metal drawer open, but I saved her the trouble.

"No, he just had his eighteenth birthday earlier this month. He's legal. But we need him _here_. Is there anything, _anything_ at all...?"

Shocked silence was on the other end of the line.

"_No, Darrel. I'm sorry. There's nothing that can be done from my office. I can write a letter, asking the board to disqualify him, but I don't think it will help. If he'd only stayed in school and applied for college, he could have had a …."_

"Yes, I know. He could have gotten a deferment. But he didn't. Please, Mrs. O' Donovan, is there any chance, any _hope_ for him?"

The answer was expected, but it still stabbed me in the heart.

"_No, Darrel. There isn't, not one that I know of anyway. I'm so, so sorry."_

I had to swallow a few times to get moisture back on my throat. "Thanks anyway." I hung up.

I swallowed some Tylenol for my headache, found my keys, found my resolve and headed out to the station. I'd exhausted every channel I could think of. I was going to lose him anyway.

XXX

I recognized Darry's truck as he pulled in. Two-Bit and Steve were having a smoke over at the picnic table the boss had set up out by the curb. It was supposed to be for customers getting their cars worked on, but to me, it was the safest place to be. With the pump still leaking gas and oil all over the ground, I was amazed this place was still standing.

They stuck out their chins and lifted their hands in acknowledgment of his arrival as he came across the lot to me, then together we headed inside the shop office to talk alone.

"Have you told them?"

"No!" I was getting angry, tired of Darry asking me every time I turned around if I'd revealed my secret. "Dang it, Darry, it's bad enough I have to deal with this... I don't want to have to deal with their pity on top of it."

"I don't think they'd want to give you pity. They need to know, Sodapop. It's going to be hard enough...."

"Well, what are you lovebirds all in a tizzy about?"

Two-Bit walked in just as Darry and I were standing nearly toe to toe.

"Two-Bit, for once, don't ask." I said, continually wiping my hands on a towel to hide how badly they were shaking again. I wanted a smoke, but knew better than to do that in here.

Two-Bit said nothing, but he never moved from the doorway, and I could feel his eyes move from me to Darry and back again, trying to figure this out. Steve was back in the garage, thankfully missing the show. I heard the chains on the doors clink and clatter as he pulled the bay doors down, shutting the station up for the night.

Darry turned from me and grabbed a soda from the machine, tossing a dime in the cup on the counter. As I turned to close the register, his strong hand reached over and snagged my neck, pulling me toward him. His fingers rubbed the back of my head hard, telling me in silence that he was sorry. I understood. Of all the times to be fighting, this was not it.

God, I hated this. It was bad enough knowing in a week I'd be forced from my home and my family and thrust into a war I wanted nothing to do with, to shoot at people who didn't know anything about me yet wanted me dead anyway. I knew from everything I'd read, seen and heard that my chances of coming home alive in a year were slim to none. Those who did manage to make it home weren't the same. Either the terror of the place made them insane, mean, brutal, or worse; _or_ they got hooked on the heroine that was easier to get than a candy bar and a Pepsi.

Which was worse? Outright death, or so changed that the brother they knew would never reemerge even if I did make it back. Nether Darry nor Pony deserved either option, and yet I had no options of my own.

I hid it from Darry, but I was scared. Scared to death. Scared so bad I couldn't piss straight. Scared so much I was glad Pony was in his own room, as I was now the one having night terrors. I didn't _volunteer_ for this. I didn't _ask_ for this. I don't _want_ this. Yet, I was powerless to stop it.

"I'll wait outside while you finish up," he said in a strangled voice. I nodded. Darry disappeared out the door while Two-Bit stood there, still watching. Hesitating a moment, he finally left too. I finished getting the receipts and ledger book, took the till and shoved it in the safe. The morning crew would be in early to start up, Steve and I would come back in around one to take over and finish the weekend.

"Steve," I called as I went through the inside door into the service bay, "have you shut down the pumps yet?"

"Not yet. I'm headed that way now."

I got out the broom and went to sweeping the office, then when that was done went and serviced the women's room while Steve did the men's. Finally, when the place was as good as we could get it, I hauled the trash to the dumpster and locked the front door, deposited the keys in the empty register and Steve and I headed out the side door that locks from the inside. We were done. Time to go home.

Darry and Two-Bit were sitting in the truck, listening to the radio when we came over.

"All finished?" Darry asked.

"Yup, all done."

"See ya tomorrow, Steve." I said as I eased into the seat vacated by Two-Bit. Darry started the engine but waited until Two-Bit got his bucket of rust going before heading out. Then in a tired convoy, we all headed to our respective homes.

"Did you get in touch with Ponyboy?" I asked when we were halfway home.

"No. I tried several times, but there wasn't any answer. I'll try again tomorrow."

"I hope he's having fun."

"Me too."

I wanted him to have fun. I couldn't hold out much longer. I was going to have to tell him soon. I was sure after I did, "fun" would be a thing of the past.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	22. Molotov

A/N, Happy Birthday (10-22-09) to my own little Two-Bit, Kevin, now six years young. Mommy loves you!

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 22

**Molotov**

XXX

"Ponyboy?" poke poke poke "Ponyboy, you wake yet?"

I looked over the covers to see Alex sitting on my bed. My nose was cold. The _room_ was cold. Everything from my nose up was outside the covers, the rest of me lay warm and cozy cocooned in the quilts.

"Good morning, Miss Alex. What can I do for you?" I pulled one arm out and leaned on that elbow, watching her.

"Mama said you gots to come down for breakfast. Says there's lots to do today, and sleeping in won't get none of it done."

I yawned and scrubbed my face. When I could see again, Alex was leaning closer, examining me, her eyebrows all furrowed up in concentration just before turning into a wide excited grin.

"You gots some _whiskers!_ Wow! Am I gonna gets whiskers too?"

I laughed. "Nope. Just us guys, sorry squirt. Go tell your mother I'll be right down."

She hopped off the bed and padded out of the room. Once she was gone, I sank back into the blankets, realizing I was going back today. The weekend was over so fast.

I rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, turning on the tap to wash my face some, then returning to my room to dress for the morning.

"Morning sleepyhead! Didn't think you would ever wake up. I made pancakes. Sorry, I don't know how to make them using your mother's recipe, but I hope these will suffice."

_Mmm, mmmh,_ they would! They were apple pancakes, quite tasty. When breakfast was done, I did the dishes then together, Mrs. Nixon and I headed to the barn.

"Is Linda coming this morning?"

"No. She called earlier before you woke up. She was going to try to get over, but couldn't as she's behind on her homework. However, she's going to be joining us for the trip back to Tulsa. She knows I'll be passing through Oklahoma City and was wanting some current pictures of the capitol for some report she's doing. Her father agreed to let her come along if I didn't mind, and of course I didn't." She grinned. "I got swindled into being her taxi, but that's fine. I could use the company on the return trip. I hope that's okay."

My smile refused to be held back. She noticed and laughed.

"Yeah, I _thought _you'd like that. I wasn't exactly blind to yesterday, you know. I was a teenager once, myself.... a lifetime ago, but I remember it. I won't go telling on you to Darrel, but you'd better remember that you two have an awful lot of distance between each other. Long distance relationships usually don't work. I'd hate to see either of you be hurt."

I nodded, but Mrs. Nixon was already too late. I liked Linda, a _lot_. And the distance that would be between us already hurt. I'd survive. Somehow.

We mucked out the stalls and refilled the water containers. Fresh feed was put in the troughs. The horses moseyed around looking as bored as could be. I'd offered to help with the cattle, but she shook her head.

"Go on, I'm pretty sure you'd rather take a ride on Casper than deal with cows."

I grinned, nodding. I saddled Casper and headed out to the open lands, cantering a bit before setting him out into a full out, mind numbing run. I wasn't sure if I'd gone the entire one hundred plus acres she owned, but nothing man-made was in site when I turned to look around.

"Well, Casper, guess this is it for a while, buddy." I leaned over the saddle and patted his neck. His skin twitched under my touch. I turned him and set him into a smooth gallop, taking in the scenery around us. It was peaceful here. The problems of city life didn't seem to know this place existed. At least Linda and Alex were safe from nonsense like Soc's. I hoped they never polluted this wonderful land with their brand of misery.

I rode him for a long time - until his nostrils flared from the paces I'd put him through and he seemed to tire out. I patted his strong neck, feeling the heat coursing through him. I still couldn't believe he was mine; a gift to beat all gifts. Once back, I put his saddle up and returned to the house, taking a shower then washing all my clothes for the trip back this afternoon. Alex looked like she was going to start crying again when she saw me packing, but I grabbed a book and sat with her on the couch to read to her. She cozied right into my arms, staying as still as a kitten.

"Are you still my brother?" She asked suddenly.

I looked at her, remembering what I'd told her last summer before I left.

"I'm sort of an honorary brother. Is that okay?"

She nodded. What that was about, I had no idea.

"Ponyboy, I was rather tired last night and didn't get to talk with you very much about your piano playing, but have you ever thought of making a go for it, playing professionally?" Mrs. Nixon asked suddenly as she passed through the living room.

I laughed. "I play for fun, Mrs. Nixon. I'm not _that_ good."

"Oh? I thought you played extremely well."

"Mrs. Nixon, what scheme are you conjuring up?"

She tried to give me a somewhat harsh look, but the curl on her lips gave it away. "Really now, Ponyboy! Look, the managers who were there at the restaurant liked what they heard. There aren't that many good pianists around, at least in these parts. Maybe there are more in Tulsa, I don't know. But you_ are _good. Your skills are... what was that word they used... raw. That's it. Raw. You just need to play more to get better, hone your skills some. Just a thought. You have the talent, may as well use it."

She fumbled in a kitchen drawer for something, then brought me a business card.

"Here, this is the manager of the restaurant's card. He asked me to give this to you if you ever came back to town. Call him and ask him yourself since you don't believe me."

I looked at the card, smirking. _Me, a pianist_. _Mom would love that!_ I thought with heavy sarcasm. I thought the idea was as foolish as they came, but I slid the card in my wallet anyway and went back to reading to Alex.

XXX

The hour had come. I slid my bag back into the backseat of the car and sat next to Linda. Alex had already been dropped off with the cops wife, Melissa and her three girls, for another play date. Alex had given me a big hug but was better at letting me go this time. I guess some things get easier with time. With a final look behind me, I watched the house, the barn, the cattle and the horses disappear as the wide open road stretched before us.

Linda and I managed the time playing checkers on the seat between us. Mrs. Nixon kept the rear view mirror suspiciously aimed at us and not the road behind her. However, she couldn't see us holding hands below the level of the seat back. It was the only constant contact I had with her, but it would be enough.

"So what's this situation you were telling me about with Soda yesterday?" Linda asked during our fourth game.

I looked up, forgetting my strategy of deciding which move to make.

"He's having to work at another DX gas station, and it isn't in too hot of a location. The guys who are constantly on our case live close by. Not too many of the East side customers go down there. Trouble breaks out usually - fights and stuff when they do. Darry's always bugged that I'm going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and get myself in trouble." Thoughts of my recent altercation in the alley came back to me, making me shudder. "So, they sent me back here to Hollis to avoid it. Not that I mind in the least, I had a great time."

"And I enjoyed your company." Mrs. Nixon commented from the front seat.

"Thanks for taking me to the fair last night. That was a blast!"

"You're more than welcome. Alex had a great time. I must be getting old, I don't think I could have endured all those rides with her, as many times as you kids went on them!"

"You are NOT old, Mrs. Nixon." Linda countered.

"Darling, when you get my age, come talk with me about it!"

We all laughed.

XXX

"So, the kid's coming home today?"

"Yep." I answered back from below in the pit. The only good thing about this station was that it had a mechanics pit that allowed us to get under the car better. Oil changes and other work went faster thanks to it. However, oil and grease seemed to cover every surface. No one wanted to clean the pit up and there were a few pieces of steel pipe that stuck up out of the concrete that Steve and I managed to trip on every time we were down here. They looked like remnants of a steel work table, legs cut off a few inches above the floor.

"Good, that should cheer you up. I swear, you're getting more and more depressing every day, Sodapop. What's happened to your good nature?"

I groaned inside. _Can't tell him. It's for his own good._ I knew Steve real well, and was certain he'd go and join up the minute he knew what was going on. If he died out there and I somehow managed to survive, it'd kill me. He's my best friend, and if keeping him in the dark keeps him alive, then so be it. The last thing I wanted to do was bury him and have it lay on my conscious forever that it was my fault he'd been there in the first place. It made me understand a little of how Pony felt watching Johnny go. The thought made me sick.

"I left it at home." I mumbled.

A car at the pumps got my attention and as I turned to look, it was those same Soc's in that tuff Corvette from yesterday. I didn't bother trying to smile.

"Steve, watch my back," I called as I headed out to "help" them. This time it was just the two guys, the girls weren't there.

"What can I get you?" I asked from a few feet away, knowing I had to be polite. "Nice" was reserved for customers who hadn't tried to knife my brother. Not that I had any proof it was them, just a hunch.

"A fill up. And don't scratch my paint."

I watched them warily as I put the nozzle in the car and filled the tank. They were silent, eying each other. Only a moron wouldn't see they were up to something. Once done, I recapped the tank and checked the pump.

"That'd be $2.75." I said.

"Sure grease, I got it right here..." He flipped me the bird and gunned it, leaving the station without paying.

"_You son of a bitch, come back here!_" I yelled, chasing after them on foot for a quarter of a block. It was no use, they were long gone.

I bent over, my hands resting on my knees as I tried to catch my breath. Drive-offs came out of our pockets. That or I'd have to file a police report for it to hand to the boss as to why the till was short.

I kicked a rock on the sidewalk out of frustration and went back to the station.

"Any luck?" Steve asked, already knowing the answer.

"No. Bastards!"

"Here." He gave me three dollars and reluctantly I rang the register for it.

"You ain't got to pay for it," I protested, handing him back the quarter.

"Nope, but I figure I eat more than that at your place. Don't sweat it. Maybe those assholes will need engine work one day and they'll come begging. We can either charge them triple or wire it so that the whole car blows up."

"I can only hope." I grinned, still mad but better. It could have been worse.

XXX

"Ponyboy, you're going to have to give me directions to this other station. I want to at least stop in and let your brothers know you're home before I just drop you off alone at your house."

I'd tried to tell her it would be fine, that I hang out at my house alone all the time. Or, I could just call the station from the house; but she insisted on taking me. It was a "mother thing," as she called it when I'd tried to protest earlier. Who was I to argue? Life was better if I didn't. Besides, I _was _sort of eager to see Sodapop and Darry again. Soda'd been down in the dumps for a while; maybe he was feeling better now that the weekend shift was almost over. Darry should be there too, playing bodyguard for the guys.

The sun was going down, shades of pinks and oranges replacing the blue of the day. I had to admit, I was tired. I couldn't imagine the exhaustion Mrs. Nixon had to feel from all that driving, and she still had to turn around and go back still. The only break we'd had was the hour we stopped in Oklahoma City for Linda to get shots of the capitol and assorted monuments around it. She even got Mrs. Nixon to take a couple of me and Linda in the frame.

"Turn left on Ricker Road." I guided. She did. "Now go under the overpass and down about a mile. The station's on the left. You'll see it, it's got a big squashed red and blue diamond shaped sign out over the road."

Linda was looking all around. I wondered if she noticed the streets weren't so clean, the gutters cluttered with trash in some spots. A few hoods were hanging around, their slicked back hair and worn clothing giving them away even to strangers. Hard core hoods, beyond even my buddies accepted "greaser" status. For a moment I was embarrassed, wondering if she thought I was like them. I may have the same clothes and my hair was usually slicked back some, but I didn't consider myself of their low caliber. We – Darry, Soda the gang and myself – were just broke.

She pulled in to the vacant store lot across the street, figuring to walk over. As we got out of the car, Darry, who was sitting on the open tailgate of our truck out by the edge of the DX lot, saw me and waved. I waved back. He called in to Two-Bit and pointed in my direction, and Two-Bit started walking my way, Steve not far behind. Suddenly, a car came out of nowhere, flinging something out a window as it zoomed away.

Then, all hell broke loose.

XXX

I'd been watching cars go by, bored out of my numbed mind, perpetually worried about Soda's upcoming date with disaster, when an unfamiliar dusty car pulled up across the street. I looked over, wondering who that was as the store that the driver had pulled in next to had gone out of business months ago. Oh, of course. Mrs. Nixon. Ponyboy was climbing out of the backseat along with... sigh, that Viper... Linda. What was he getting himself into? I waved.

"Two-Bit," I called. He'd been by the bay doors, bugging Steve and Soda for a while now. How they were getting any work done with him there distracting them was beyond me. I wanted them to get finished so we could get the hell out of here and back home. I didn't want the last week of Soda's time spent screwing around on cars when he could - and _should -_ be spending it with us.

Two-Bit jerked his head up when I called, expecting a fight perhaps, but even across the parking lot, I saw him grin and relayed the message that Pony was back. He was halfway across the lot when a screech of tires ripped into the dusky evening. Two-Bit froze where he stood while I jumped off the truck, looking for the idiot who seemed to coming right at us.

Barreling across the DX lot came a Corvette, going so blinding fast that I couldn't even catch the color. It was dark, that was all I could make out. Someone in the passenger seat hurled a flaming Molotov cocktail at the station, the car barely slowing down in the process. A scream of "Greaser!" came at the same time that the bottle was launched. Who in their right mind would do something so damn stupid?

So many events happened at the same time that keeping it straight was near impossible.

What I do remember was watching the bottle hit the pumps and shatter, then watching the pumps disappear in the ensuing fireball which erupted in that same spot. A secondary explosion followed not even a second later _inside_ the garage. The whole thing - building, pumps, glass, _everything_, disappeared into a flaming myriad of intense heat, burning debris and screams so loud I thought my ear drums would pierce.

As I picked myself off the ground where I'd been thrown, I noticed Ponyboy racing faster than lightening toward the building, heading into the fire, devastation registered on his face as his earsplitting screams of "_Soda!_"could be heard over the din. I was in a full blown run as well, also headed into the inferno. Sodapop was in there, I'd be damned if I sat back and watched him burn up.

XXX

"NO! DAMN IT, LET ME GO!_ LET ... ME ... GO_!" I was doing all I could to get free of the multiple hands holding me down, pinning me to the ground. As soon as I got loose of one set, another seemed to come out of nowhere and snare me again. I could only watch the building burn in front of me, unable to help. I had to get to him. He's my brother, but with every inch forward I'd managed, I was pulled back two or three by the captors who had me. "I gotta get to him! LET! ME! GO!" I clawed at the pavement below me, using anything I could to get traction to pull away from the many tight, restraining arms and go help.

I saw Darry dive into the flames, seemingly unconcerned about them. From the side of the building, I saw someone hobble out, their clothes burned and skin bloodied. Others were on him in an instant as he collapsed to the ground. Turning my eyes back to where Darry had disappeared, I waited. Seconds ticked away, but I still didn't see him. _Either_ of them. Darry or Sodapop.

Another explosion went off, a smaller one this time. Firetrucks sounded in the distance, but my sobbing drowned out the sirens.

"_SODA, DARRY! ._. Please God, _No_! Please, oh Please.. no!" I cried, tears flooding my face. I wrenched again, harder and more determined, but the hands holding me were stronger than me; they would not let me go. I gave up and surrendered to the ground, collapsing in a heap as various arms and hands held me tight. If nothing else, I wished I could have gone with them.

I was alone now. My entire family was gone.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	23. Guardian Ad Litem

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 23

**Guardian Ad Litem**

XXX

"Ponyboy, _STOP_!"

In one blinding moment, the world turned into a fiery hell. Explosions ripped behind me, people I hadn't even seen before were racing everywhere. Darry was running full speed _into_ the inferno, and for the most miniscule of seconds, I was going to join him to try to help save Steve and Sodapop.

_Until_ I saw the kid.

The look on his face was sheer panic. He was barreling toward the inferno raging behind me with careless disregard. _Nuh uh. Not this time, bub._ I don't think he even saw or heard me, and I was certain he never heard the woman and that senorita of his screaming his name and giving chase after him. It would only have been a losing contest, they'd never have caught him. He was going faster than he ever had at any track meet I'd ever seen him in. As it was, it took everything _I _had to ground him - intercepting him in a clothesline catch. He wrestled hard to get free, screaming and crying at the same time. He was quick and squirrelly and I was losing my grip.

The woman and his gal pounced on him next - pulling, holding, and in any way possible, keeping him from getting free. It wasn't easy. Ponyboy was fighting us with every ounce of strength he had, and even more I didn't know he possessed.

"Ponyboy,_ please_ stop, _please!_" begged Linda, wrapping her arms around his middle tugging his back.

"You can't go in there, you'll get killed!" echoed the screams of Mrs. Nixon as she also fought to hold him down.

I knew better than to try to talk to him, he wasn't listening anyway. His body, eyes, mind and soul were concentrated on the two beings still in the building. Darry and Sodapop. My own heart cringed. How in the hell they could have lived through that was beyond me.

Pony lunged again, nearly breaking free of my grip but thankfully the women had him. I tightened my arms around him and finally felt him collapse. He sobbed, bowing into the gravel, hands scraping against it, his nails bloodied from the clawing struggle to get free. I didn't chance letting go, fearing he'd still run inside the building.

"Pone! Listen! _Ponyboy!_!" No use. He was hysterical.

"Shit, Two-Bit, what the fuck happened?" demanded Dugger, one of the greasers I knew from the area who ran up to me.

_Great timing, asshole! I could'a used you a minute ago. _"You got wheels?" I barked, still not letting go of the kid.

"Hell yeah!

"Get 'em. Now!"

I was torn. My gut instinct was to go help Darry and Soda if I could. Two things made me hesitate. First off, I ain't all that great with hurt people. Seeing firsthand what had happened, I _knew_ I wouldn't be able to handle it. Memories of Johnny's seared flesh and the odor it gave off had cemented itself in my mind permanently. I never wanted to see anyone in that condition again, even if it was my own mother calling for me. Second off, there was no one to keep the kid safe if I left. If he bolted again with only the women holding him, they wouldn't be able to hold him down. I sure couldn't trust him to Dugger, either. Now that he was in my hands, I was damn sure gonna keep him out of danger. It was the one thing I knew Darry and Soda would want. They'd _insist!_ I could practically hear Darry screaming it in my head.

Dugger turned and came back over with his car. With his help, we pulled Pony inside it. I held him in the backseat. He was shaking so bad I was sure he was in shock. I had to get the kid out of here. What happened to Mrs. Nixon and the senorita never even crossed my mind.

"Where the hell you want me to go?" Dugger nearly screamed, clearly out of it concerning the chaos happening around us. Firetrucks were pulling up, police were roping off the area, telling everyone to get back. People were everywhere, grease and soc alike.

"Take me to the Curtis house! Now!"

The car lurched as Dugger hit the gas.

"Ponyboy? You okay kid? Pone? Come on, talk to me buddy! Ponyboy?!"

He just kept murmuring the same thing over and over, softly calling for Soda and Darry, then moaning softly, "_no_" while his torn nails dragged limply against the seats. It was painful for me to watch and listen to. I just sat next to him as he lay across the seats, half my ass hanging off as Pony's bent frame took up most of the bench. One of my hands held onto the backrest to keep me from falling onto the floorboard, the other combed his hair to try to comfort him. I don't think my efforts did any good.

"We're here, now what?" The car screeched to a halt, tires bumping the curb making me lurch forward.

"Help me get him inside."

I slid out and together the two of us pulled Pony out of the car. He wasn't helping us move him at all. His legs went through the motions of walking, but they weren't supporting his weight. I wasn't as strong as Darry, so there was no way I could carry him. Dugger and I ended up sandwiching him between us and together we damn near dragged the kid inside. Once in, I had to half drag him by myself the last bit of the way to his room, laying him down on his bed.

"The kid hurt?" Dugger asked.

"How the hell do I know? Gimme a minute!" I gave Pony the once over, not seeing any blood other than the scrapes on his hands. Still, I tore his shirt off, wanting to make sure. His chest and stomach seemed fine. I felt around, wanting to make sure but not really knowing what the hell I was doing. His body from the waist up seemed in one piece and nothing below the belt seemed to be busted either, although that part I didn't exactly check.

He suddenly snapped back to reality by looking at me, grabbing my shirt in a fist.

"Two-Bit... find them! They need help! Please!"

The begging, desperate sob that came with his plea tore me up.

"Ponyboy, hush. I can't go if you don't calm down!"

"You want me to do anything, man?" Dugger was at the doorway, slapping his pockets, clearly wanting to get out of here.

"Yeah. Find Tim. Don't stop until you do. Let him know what's going on!"

"You got it."

Dugger left. Just as the door slammed behind him, I heard it slam again.

"_Ponyboy!" _

It was a woman's voice.

"He's in here!"

Mrs. Nixon was at his side in an instant along with a clearly shaken Linda. Mrs. Nixon was checking him out, looking like she knew what she was doing. The relief I felt to have someone else take charge was huge.

"Ponyboy, honey, does this hurt? … How bout here, does this hurt? Ponyboy?" She pressed in around various parts of his exposed chest, then moved down to press around his stomach and hips. Pony showed absolutely no reaction, just continued shaking as if he was freezing to death.

"I think he's in shock," I said trying to be helpful.

"He is. He needs to go to the hospital."

Now I was _really_ worried. If Darry wasn't coming back... what would happen to the kid? If Darry _did_ managed to make it home and didn't find the kid, how much panic would that cause?

"I dunno..."

"Well I do." She cut me off like it was nothing. "Go call for an ambulance. Now, Mr. Mathews. _Now_!"

Her bark put me in motion. I called, gave them the address and went back to the room. Pony was wrapped up in blankets, his hands clutching Linda's tightly although his eyes never registered her presence.

The ambulance showed up and Pony was loaded on the stretcher. I jumped in the rig along with him and the ambulance guys. Mrs. Nixon followed in her car, seeing as how I wasn't letting the kid out of my sight and Linda apparently wasn't licensed to drive.

However, none of us were allowed to follow Ponyboy into the emergency room once we got to the hospital. While he was sent straight to the back, the rest of us were sent to the waiting room. Mrs. Nixon went to check him in which was good - I didn't know the first thing about any procedures. My job was to keep the kid alive and safe. Considering what had happened, I'd done the best I could.

Christ Almighty! Once the adrenaline rush started to wear off, I realized the magnitude of everything. I still hadn't had time to put it all together, but even I had to sit a minute. Looking around, I found a pay phone and dialed Tim's number. After ten rings, I realized there was no answer. I hung up and called Bucks. He answered on the third ring, music screaming in the background.

"Buck, Two-Bit. You seen Tim?"

"_Tim? As in Shepard? Not today, sorry Mathews."_

"If he comes in, have him get to Tulsa General. There's a problem, a big one. I need him. _Now._ ASAP."

"_Sure thing. Whaddya do, run out of beer?"_

"Not a time for jokes, Buck. Just have him get to the hospital."

"_I'll pass it along."_

I hung up, trying Tim's number again but still no answer.

"Family of Ponyboy Curtis?" A woman in a white doctor's coat called. Mrs. Nixon, Linda and I stepped forward.

"Are you his mother?" the woman asked.

"No. Guardian ad litem, Agnes Nixon. How is he?"

"I'm Doctor Moorehead. He's in shock but otherwise doesn't appear injured. Can you tell me what happened?"

"There was an explosion at a gas station where his brothers work at. He, _we -_ saw it explode. We're still waiting word if there were any survivors."

"Would that be the station down on Perry street?"

Mrs. Nixon looked at me.

"Yeah," I answered. "Has anyone come in from there?" _Alive, please be alive!_

"One was brought it a while ago. Do you have a name we can cross reference the patient with?"

"Steve Randle and Sodapop Curtis were the workers. Darrel Curtis was there to help. I haven't seen anyone since the building went up."

"Dixon!" the doctor called to one of the passing nurses. She scribbled a message on a piece of paper and tapped the nurse on the arm, who then disappeared behind the doors.

"Ponyboy?" Mrs. Nixon pressed.

"We're monitoring him. He's not saying very much, but again, doesn't seem injured. I've given him a mild sedative to calm him. His heart rate was a little high. He's not asleep, but isn't responding to us at all. Friendly faces may help draw him out. It you're willing to see him, I'll have Nurse Dixon come get you in a few moments."

"Thank you," Mrs. Nixon said.

As soon as the doctor was back behind closed doors, Mrs. Nixon went to the pay phone and started making some calls. Linda was sitting in a chair, her arms wrapped around herself looking like she was in shock herself.

"You okay?" I carefully asked. The last think I needed was a bawling senorita on my hands.

"Yeah," she answered slowly, nodding. Finally she looked at me. "He said this area of town was rough, but … I never expected …."

I had no answer. She never finished her sentence and went back to looking at the closed doors as if she could see through them.

"Can I … um, you need me to call anyone for you?"

She shook her head. "My father's not home. Besides, he knows I'm with Mrs. Nixon. I'll call him later."

I rocked on my feet, unsure what the hell to do now. Mrs. Nixon was animated on the phone, her hand swirling in circles in the air as she spoke to whomever was on the other end. It took a while, but she finally came back just as Nurse Dixon came over to me.

"We have a Steve Randle back here who is asking for you. Do you want to see him?"

My head snapped up. "Yeah. Sure." I gave Mrs. Nixon a look who nodded, patting my arm.

"Go ahead, Two-Bit, tend to your other friend. As soon as we're allowed to see Ponyboy, I'll tell him you'll be along."

XXX

"Crap! Shit! Fuck!"

I grinned, at least he _sounded_ fine. I heard him cussing from outside the room.

"Steve? Hey, Steve, c'mon buddy, it's me, Two-Bit. How ya holding up?"

"I want his _name!_ I want his_ address!_ I'm going to personally _kill _that sonofabitch Soc!"

He sounded drunk. His entire right side was wrapped in gauze and he smelled of gasoline. He had a few IV lines going in him, each dripping fluids from a bottle. An oxygen tube was stuck in his nose. Along the parts of his chest not swathed in bandages were some red patches of skin and a few blisters from obvious burns. Nurses hovering at a nearby desk eyed him warily but didn't come over; the doctor did though.

"Is this your friend?" Dr. Moorehead asked.

I nodded. "Yep, that's Steve. How bad is he?"

"He's got two broken ribs and has some internal bleeding. He's going to surgery soon to find and fix the source of the bleeding. For now, we've given him some medication to make him more comfortable. From what we've been able to get out of him, he lives with his father but we've not been able to get in touch with that person. There isn't anyone answering at the home number he gave us. You wouldn't know how to get in touch with him, would you?"

I thought about it. It was Sunday. Mr. Randle was probably down at the bar watching the game. Even if he wasn't, this being Sunday, he was sure to be drunk, which would also make him mean. In this case, it was better to be an absent father than a drunk, belligerent one. I shook my head.

"Sorry, no clue."

"Well, I'll leave you both alone for a few minutes. The operating room is almost ready, so it won't be long."

I nodded and the doc slipped out.

"Two-Bit?" Steve asked, sounding more with it.

"Yeah, buddy, I'm here." I took his hand that he held in the air. He gripped me tight, as if we were arm wrestling.

"Soda?"

My heart sank. "I dunno. I just... I dunno." I didn't want to tell him what I saw. He needed to worry about himself and _only_ himself right now. I'd worry for everyone else. There was nothing he could do for Soda or Darry at this point anyway.

"God.... No!...."

"Steve, they're going to take you to the operating room. You got some bleeding inside you; they got to find it and stop it. Don't worry bout Soda. I'll find him. You just get better. Okay pal? How bad you hurting?"

"It's... nothing." If he hadn't sucked in air real painful like, I might have believed him.

"Can't bullshit me, man. Stop playing the heavy and ask for more drugs."

"How's Darry?"

Christ, when were they taking him?

"Steve, shut the hell up and relax."

Understanding spread on his face as he turned to look at me.

"Oh shit! Oh Christ! God, no! Not _both_ of them!"

"Mr. Randle, we're going to take you to surgery. Just relax for me." Some nurse in green scrubs came in the room and injected something into one of his IV's. Steve relaxed and went limp. They wheeled him out and down the hall while I watched, then slowly I made my way back to find the kid's room.

Linda was holding his hand again when I walked in, staring at his face with wide, scared eyes. Pony's were the same, except he was staring off into space, his pupils large. He was covered with a sheet and some blankets, an IV of his own looping into his hand and wires taped to his chest snaking to a machine behind him. Above him, a green line jumped with every beat of his heart.

A woman I recognized was with Mrs. Nixon, Mrs. O' Donovan; their social worker. _Shit_. How'd she find out so fast? The two of them were bent over papers, each holding a pen, scribbling their name and signing forms.

"You taking the kid away from his family again?" I asked huskily, disdain dripping with every word.

"Two-Bit," Mrs. O' Donovan said not bothering to look up, "not that this is any of your business, but I know how close you and the Curtis family are so I'll tell you anyway. Until Darrel returns, I am placing Ponyboy back in Mrs. Nixon's custody. I already have a judges approval. As soon as Darrel shows up, the custody reverts back to Darrel."

"Don't worry, Two-Bit, I only want to help him, not hurt him."

I didn't have time to ponder the implications. I went to the kid's side. Linda moved some but never let go of Pony's hand. On closer look, I think it was him holding onto her with an extremely tight grip. I knew that grip. Fear.

"Ponyboy..." I started. A ripple went through him and he blinked, looking at me. I pushed his hair back and patted his arm. Soda always touched him when he was scared, something about his contact seemed to calm the kid. "It's going to be okay, buddy. I ain't gonna let you down. I'm here."

"Wanna go home, Two-Bit. _Home_." His shaky voice said. The doctor and nurse both heard it and looked over. Mrs. Nixon was all over it.

"Can he go home?"

"He really needs to be observed for twenty-four hours. Traumatic events can manifest into worsening conditions later. We need to keep him overnight, keep him calm."

"Tomorrow morning then?" she pushed.

The doctor nodded. "He should be able to return home tomorrow, provided he does well tonight."

"No!" Pony cried softly. Tears fell from his face onto the pillow beneath him.

"I ain't leaving ya, kid. You're gonna be fine. Don't sweat it." I tried to be as soothing as I could be.

"We'll move him upstairs to the pediatrics floor soon. Until then, you can stay with him."

"I'm staying with him until he comes home." Mrs. Nixon said flat out. "We all are." The doctor nodded, giving in easily.

"That's fine. I don't think that will be a problem."

The nurses kept their distance, the machines monitoring him while the nurses monitored the machines. The senorita had one of his hands while I had the other. Mrs. Nixon was on the phone in the room, explaining to one person after another in a low voice what had happened. I guess there were a lot of things she had to have managed back in Hollis. Eventually she hung up the phone and came over, bending to kiss the kid on the head. His cries had silenced long ago, but tears still fell from his eyes. I held it back, swallowing hard each time the emotions came up. I had to be strong for him.

"We're ready to go upstairs now." A nurse carefully said. Three nurses came in the room, each busy placing stuff on the gurney. Then like a slow moving caravan, we all moved along, following the kid upstairs.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	24. Disorderly Conduct

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 24

**Disorderly Conduct**

XXX

The heat was intense but oddly enough, it never registered in my head. I had one thing on my mind, _find Sodapop._ Find him and get the hell out of here. Explosions were happening outside at the pumps, sending burning debris everywhere and instantly igniting everything combustible in the bays. The last place I remember seeing Soda was over by the tool chests in the garage, so that's where I fought to get to.

"Soda!" The smoke choked me, doubling me over in a nonstop fit of coughing. It wasn't a smoke like what a barbecue grill emitted, this was a chemical smoke. My eyes watered and I could barely breathe, but I had to find him. "Soda!"

The tools lay in a heap on the floor of the garage. The force of the explosions knocked everything loose inside the place. The Oldsmobile that was in bay 1 was even forced against the support beam of the building. I didn't look at it, I didn't want to see it. I coughed hard, having to go to my knees in order to find some less suffocating air that I could take in without choking on. My eyes flooded to clear the burning fumes. Now the heat was making itself known, the hair on my arms singing off.

"Soda, _damn it,_ _ANSWER ME_!"

I couldn't hear anything over the hissing of gases and flame, praying that the hissing was an air hose and nothing else, otherwise I was standing in a time bomb waiting for it to explode. I felt around on the floor, knowing I should be in the general area of the tool chests lining the back wall of the shop, but now my vision was totally obscured by smoke. For an instant, I thought about Ponyboy, him in the church ... but then more acutely, me leaving him an orphan with no family left.

The risk I was taking took only one tenth of a second to debate in my head; it was all the time I could allow for it. Should I leave, give up on finding Soda and save myself … and know I'd failed Soda, or go on and risk dying too, leaving Ponyboy alone in the world? "SODAPOP? Where the" ... _cough_ ... "hell" ..._ cough_ ... "are you?"

I felt around frantically, crawling around through everything on the floor. Embers fell on my skin, burning me. Then, I lost my balance and fell about three feet into nothing, a snapping feeling somewhere in my left arm stinging me like a bee when I tried to brace myself awkwardly for the unexpected fall.

"Shit!" I muttered as I felt the scorching hot concrete around me. It was like the concrete itself was an oven.

"Dar?" I heard a weak mumble and felt something graze my leg.

"Soda? Sodapop! It's me! How bad ya hurt?"

Through the thick smoke, I saw him. Christ, he looked bad.

"Can't …. breathe."

He coughed hard, blood erupting from his mouth. He lay there, too weak to even wipe it from his face.

"Hold on, buddy, I'm gonna get you out!"

I tried to lift him, but he screamed in agony, gripping my shoulders in a vice.

"God, stop! Please... stop!" He begged. I let go instantly.

I looked around him, trying to figure out what was pinning him down. Nothing was on him, although his leg was splayed out in a bad direction. A busted leg _would_ hurt like a sonofabitch, but he'd be able to endure it. Something else was wrong.

"Soda, what? What's got you?"

"My … side.... can't …. breathe."

I looked closer at him, feeling around under him. His left was okay, but the ground under him on the right was thick with something sticky. I wasn't sure what it was, either grease or blood. I tasted it and recognized the tart iron taste immediately. He was bleeding, and judging by how much blood was under him, he was in pretty bad shape. I had to get him out of here. If the fire didn't kill us, he'd bleed out and die anyway.

"I ain't losing you, Sodapop. Now hold on, damn it!"

I pushed my fingers further and further under him, probing his back for the cause of the problem. I tried to cover him as best I could with my body while I did, as burning embers rained down everywhere. Flames from oil spots sprang up and burned around us. _Where the hell was it? What was pinning him to the ground?_

Then my fingers felt it. A pipe or pole, rebar maybe, was impaling him, holding him fast to the floor of the pit.

Shitshitshitshitshit! It's not like I had options. Either the building was going to come down on us or whatever combustibles that hadn't blown up yet would. End result would be the same - we'd die here together; him from blood loss and burns, me from smoke inhalation and burns. I had to get us out, and there was only one way to do it.

"Soda, you're gonna hate me, but I gotta do this. It's gonna hurt like nothing you've ever felt before. Sorry, buddy!"

"Just.... do... it." He gasped.

I stood and straddled him, then put one arm under his shoulders and the other arm under his back, and in one swift motion, lifted.

The scream that followed was agonizing. No tortured sound ever conceived in this realm of existence would come close to the anguishing sound Soda'd made. His hands gripped my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin. Finally I felt the resistance end and he was free.

"Ohhh, God!" He cried out. I lifted him to the platform above the pit, tossing him as gently as I could but knowing he was already in more pain than what I could fathom. He lay still, despite the garage floor being scorching hot and embers floating down from the flames that licked at everything here.

Above the din, I heard sirens. "Help's coming, Soda. Hold on, buddy. Hold on!"

My left arm seemed to have lost most of it's grip, but I forced it anyway. I hauled him up, slinging him over my shoulder while praying all the while he didn't have a busted back. In one massive power lift, I hoisted him up and walked as fast as I could to the open bay doors, out into the thinning smoke, out into the clearer air.

Once out of the building, my strength gave out. I kneeled down, letting Soda fall from my shoulders into the hands of others who had rushed over, surrounding us.

"I'm sorry, Soda. So sorry...." I mumbled, not sure if he'd heard me. Not sure if he was awake, or even alive still. Had I killed him? Had he bled out? I didn't know. My own thoughts failed as I gave out and collapsed next to him.

XXX

"Shit. He's actually waking up."

"Where the...."

"Shut the hell up, Curtis. Don't move."

I opened my eyes, focusing on the numerous floating things around me. Bright lights filled the unfamiliar room. Beeps and buzzers hummed around me. The voices of numerous people filled the room. I concentrated on the one thing that seemed familiar.

"Tim? What..."

He shook his head and pushed me back down with one hand. "Yet another grease that won't listen to anything I say. What is it with you Curtis boys? You all wanna play hero, or what?"

"Tim, either start making sense or shut the hell up. My head is killing me."

He shifted his weight and stared at me some more. Then things started coming back to me, but slowly, and with a fuzzy haze to it. The one thing I did remember was Soda. He's hurt. I shook my head, forcing the fuzzy feeling away.

"How's Soda?" I asked, my voice stronger, demanding an answer.

"He's upstairs. Darry, I ain't gonna blow smoke up your ass. He's in bad shape - they got him in surgery right now. They ain't telling me nothing. Hey, lay your ass back down!"

I was trying to sit up. My head was clouded, the walls moved around me. Once again, he pushed me down.

"What'd they give me?"

"Morphine. Now lay back down."

A rush of feet came stampeding my way.

"Mr. Curtis, please lay still," said one. "Don't get up, sir. Just rest," came another.

"I need to check on Sodapop. How is he?"

"Please, Mr. Curtis, just relax!" A third one with a strong bark sounded off.

Either they didn't hear me or were ignoring me. Never piss off a worried grizzly. I started to fight them.

"Darrel, if you don't do it, they're just gonna give you more sleep tonic. Now lay your ass back on the bed and shut the fuck up."

Someone gasped. "Sir, we don't use that kind of language around here!" An old, frazzled - haired nurse barked at Tim.

I saw Tim smirk. "I do."

Even through my haze, I saw the staring contest happen. It didn't last long, she left in a huff. I knew it was only a matter of time before security was summoned.

"Tim, find Soda. Find out how he is." I paused a moment, pain radiating from my left arm. "What happened to me?"

"You busted it. It's in a cast. You got lucky, besides the arm, you cracked some ribs and got a few minor burns. I hope those weren't your favorite pair of jeans; they're scorched in all the wrong places. All in all, not bad for a two alarm fire."

"How'd you find out all that? They giving you my diagnosis or something?"

"Hell no. I've learned that sometimes you hear more when you shut up and listen than if you ask questions. It's a lesson Curly refuses to learn."

Fine. Great. "Did you at least_ see _Soda?"

"Yeah, I did. Only a second though when they brought the two of you in. Like I said, he's in bad shape. The kid's okay, though. You ain't got to worry bout him. He's upstairs too. He's got some people keeping him company."

It didn't register right away. Damned Morphine fog. "What kid?"

"Whaddya mean, 'what kid'? You know, your _other_ brother."

"What? Pony? _Ponyboy's_ here too? What the hell?" My voice was rising and once again I tried to get off this confounded gurney. Dear God, had he followed me in the building? Had he been in there that whole time?

"Now calm down. I said..."

"Shut it, Tim! What happened to Ponyboy? Christ! How bad's _he_ hurt?" I was yelling, which brought in some big guy and a nurse. Tim eyed them both carefully but said nothing.

"Mr. Curtis, is everything alright, sir?" Asked the big guy. He was about my height, but much more than my weight. Mine was muscle, his wasn't. I wanted to scream _hell no_, _nothing's_ _alright! _But I didn't. Tim had the answers I needed, and I'd have to feign being calm to get them.

"Yes, sorry. I.... sorry. Sorry."

They gave me a suspicious look and turned away.

"Smooth. You done going off the deep end, or you want more happy juice?"

"Tim, what the hell happened?" I hissed, rubbing my good hand over my forehead, wishing the fog would dissipate.

"Apparently, the station blew up. How and why is still being determined."

"I'll tell you _how_. Some Soc tossed a Molotov cocktail in it,_ that's _how. _Why_ is anyones guess. What idiot would knowingly throw a flaming bottle of alcohol inside a gas station?! Now, what happened to Ponyboy?"

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he leaned on the gurney rails that kept me prisoner. "I wasn't there. Mathews called around looking for me. Buck relayed the message. I showed up here just as you and Sodapop were rolled in. All I know is the kid's upstairs. Mathews said he's in shock."

"Shock? Was he hurt?" I eyed him, relieved some when he shook his head. Tim was straight, he'd shoot from the hip but not lead me on.

"He's physically fine, but apparently seeing his brothers go up in flames didn't exactly sit well with him. Mathews said it took all three of them to hold him down when the DX went up, that they've given him enough sedation by now to put down a lion, but he's not giving up. He's finally calm, but he ain't talking no more. Kid's stubborn, just like the rest of his family."

"I gotta go to him." It wasn't a request, and I didn't care how much morphine they'd given me. If I was conscious enough to think and talk, I had to go.

"Figured you'd say that. Hold on."

Tim walked over to a nurse, gestured in my direction then they both came over.

"Yes, Mr. Curtis?"

"I need to go upstairs. My brother's been admitted. I need to see him."

"Mr. Curtis, you've been given strong medication! You're in no condition to be discharged from the emergency room! You'll need to wait a few more hours."

"He ain't wanting to be discharged. He just needs to go upstairs for a bit, then he'll come right back. That ain't gonna be a problem, now is it?" Tim said in a smooth voice.

The nurse hesitated. Her eyes went from me to Tim.

"I'm sorry, I can't." She said as she walked off.

I looked for the latch that released the rails. I was going whether they okay'd it or not. Tim just looked at me.

"You can't _walk_ there, Darrel. Hold on. There's more fish in the sea."

"I'm tired of fishing. Shit, Soda's in surgery which no one will tell me what for... what the extent of his injuries are, while Pony's laying in a bed somewhere else in the building thinking we're all dead. I don't care how stoned these drugs have made me, I've got to go to him. NOW!"

My booming voice brought the big guy back, along with the same nurse and some other woman in a white coat. My eyes dared them to come at me. At least I could use the "too stoned to think straight" defense if it came to it.

The woman in the white coat put her hands out, stopping the other two.

"Mr. _Curtis_?" She asked. "Do you have a brother named Ponyboy?"

My head snapped up. "Yes."

She came over to the side of the bed, checking my cast and the IV's going into my other arm. She then set the back of the gurney up.

"I'm Dr. Moorehead. I took care of him earlier. How are you? Is your pain tolerable?"

"My pain is fine. How's Ponyboy?"

"He's in shock. I have him on monitors upstairs. I gave him a small sedative when he got here to calm him, he's been very upset – worried about you."

"I need to get to him. I'll come back down here, but I need to see him, tell him I'm okay."

She eyed me closely, scrutinizing my face. "I'll let you go, on condition that one of my staff accompanies you. Just a quick trip up and back, so Ponyboy can see you and know you're okay. After that, I want you back here. Deal?"

I nodded, "Fine. I just need to see him."

She looked around. "Carter!" she called to someone in the back. Some woman in a white nursing uniform came over.

"Take Mr. Curtis up to room 419 for a while. If he starts having pain, shortness of breath or becomes dizzy, bring him back immediately." She turned to me again. "Mr. Curtis, no more than an hour. You need rest too. Don't betray my trust - I don't dispense with it easily, and once it's gone, you won't get it back."

"Carter" came back with a wheelchair and pushed the lever releasing the rail. I eased down into it, feeling the aches everywhere on my body, especially the biting pain radiating along the left side of my rib cage, but right then all that mattered were my brothers. I needed to see Ponyboy, let him know he wasn't alone. Then somehow I'd have to check on Soda.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	25. Rounds

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 25

**Rounds**

XXX

As I eased into the wheelchair, Tim shuffled his feet.

"You need anything?" he asked.

"Find my truck. It's probably still at the station. If it ain't too much, bring it to my house for me." I found the singed remains of my jeans in a bag under the gurney and tossed him the keys.

"No problem."

"Hey, how's Steve? Please tell me at least _he_ made it out."

The grimace on his face wasn't comforting.

"How bad is he?" I asked, not waiting.

"He's upstairs, already out of surgery. Didn't get the full report, but he'll recover. He's zonked, doped up good. Don't even bother messing with him tonight. You got your brothers to turn gray over."

"Yeah, and they're getting me that way faster than they should. Thanks Tim."

"No prob, Curtis. I'll stop by later … when the sun's up."

I looked at the clock on the wall, my watch gone from my wrist. 10:17 Nurse Carter wheeled me down the hall and around to the elevators then up to the fourth floor. Pediatrics. It was easy to recognize, thanks to the bright primary colors painting the walls. Pony hated this place, they always talked down to him when he was here, even though he stood just about as tall as any of the staff.

The door was pulled to but not shut all the way. A thin beam of light gleaming out of the bathroom created enough illumination to avoid bumping into things, but definitely not enough to see clearly by. I did recognize Two-Bit's outline though when he stood up as my appointed guard wheeled me in.

"Darry! Thank the heavens! Christ man, it's a relief to see you. I've been worried. Hey, how bad ya hurt?"

"I'm fine. How's Ponyboy?" Nurse Carter left me alone with Two-Bit to visit in peace, but kept the hall door open. It helped me see the room better at least.

He gave me a disbelieving look. "Yeah, you're fine. Your arms in a …."

"Drop it, Two-Bit. How's Pony?" I said it harshly without meaning to. I knew he was only concerned.

Sudden movement from the far corner of the room got my attention. "He's physically fine, Darrel." Mrs. Nixon answered. Mrs. Nixon's presence was unexpected but comforting. Two-Bit looked apologetic, so I clapped him on the arm a bit. He cocked a one sided grin and nodded. All forgiven. "The doctor's just concerned about his heart rate. The shock of seeing the station blow up has been too stressful for him."

"He sort of thought you and Soda... well... he saw you go in, but …." Two-Bit's explanation was more point -of- fact. He didn't finish, but I understood. He moved out of the way as he explained, allowing me to get a better look. He was asleep, laying unnaturally still in the bed with a single bag of fluid hanging over him, dripping down into an IV taped into a curl going into his hand.

"They gave him something to help him sleep about a half hour ago. He's not hurt, just an emotional wreck. It's taken a lot to put him down." Mrs. Nixon went on.

That made me grin some. My youngest brother fights sleep all the time. Soda's about the only sedative that works.

"How's Soda?" Two-Bit asked. His face in the shadows looked grim. I shook my head, turning away from Pony.

"I don't know. I still gotta find him. I don't remember even being brought here, just woke up in the ER with Tim hovering over me. He said he saw us both get brought in and that Soda didn't look good."

Slight movement from the bed caught my eye. Pony's fingers twitched. His foot jerked some, then his head lolled to the side. A grimace furrowed his forehead as a soft mumble escaped his lips. I recognized the signs as did Two-Bit. I should have known a nightmare would crop up.

I pushed myself toward him in the wheelchair until my knees butted the mattress. Two-Bit had already gone to the other side of the bed, taking Pony's other limp hand in his own.

"Pone? Ponyboy? Can you hear me, Lil Colt?" I softly called, gently rubbing his cheek with my finger. "Open your eyes, Ponyboy. It's Darry. Open your eyes for me, just for a second. C'mon, Pone. You're safe. It's okay."

I stroked his cheek with my good hand, watching his eyes closely. They toggled back and forth under the closed lids for a moment as the panic whithered away, then the lids fluttered some as he squinted them open.

"Darry?"

I smiled. "Yeah, Ponyboy. It's me. It's not a dream. I'm here. You can't get rid of me that easily. How ya feeling?"

"Oh, God! Darry!" He was pulling himself up on his elbows, leaning toward me to snare me in a hug. I leaned over, feeling my cracked ribs protest the motion but ignored it. This was pain worth having when Ponyboy actually wanted to hug me. Suddenly he pulled back, eying the cast and looking at me closer.

"How bad...?"

"It's nothing, Pone. Nothing. A broken something or other somewhere in my arm. Haven't even seen my doctor yet. As soon as I heard you were here, I came. I had to see you, make sure you were okay."

"Soda?"

I swallowed hard. "I don't know yet. I'm on my way to find him next. I heard he's in surgery. As soon as I know, I'll tell you." I didn't bother with false bravado or try to downplay Soda's injuries. I knew Soda had been badly hurt and the last thing I needed to do was fill Pony with false hope. Saying he'd be okay when I didn't know his condition would only come back to bite me in the ass later. I stuck with the truth, Pony deserved that much.

"I saw the building go up, Dar." He stuttered, a single tear escaping his hold.

"I know. I'm sorry you did. But I found him and got him out. After that, things got a bit hazy for me. I'll find out, Pone. I promise. Whatever happens, I'm here. I won't leave you."

His somewhat glassy eyes locked on mine, making sure my word was genuine.

"Is there anything we can do?" asked an unexpected new voice. In the far corner of the darkened room sat Linda on a cot. I didn't know she was here, but this really wasn't a decent place for a girl her age to be – sleeping on a hospital floor in a boys room, even with Mrs. Nixon here to chaperon. I suddenly realized how traumatic all this had to be on them. It really wasn't a good way to introduce Tulsa to a newcomer, that's for sure.

"No, but thanks. Mrs. Nixon, if you want, you and Linda can go to my place to sleep. It's bound to be more comfortable than this. I'm not leaving the hospital tonight anyway, not with both my brothers here. No one will disturb you there. I have beds, clean linens... - you'll have some privacy. You won't get much rest here."

"Linda, do you want to....?"

"No. I'd rather stay here." She didn't even give Mrs. Nixon a chance to finish asking. Two-Bit caught my glance and shrugged.

"I think we'll be fine here. Thanks anyway, that's very kind of you." Mrs. Nixon settled back into her chair.

The elbow that Pony'd been leaning on gave way, and he sank back into the hospital bed. The med's were getting the better of him.

"You go back to sleep, Pony. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Tell Soda... " His voice faltered. He was fighting it, but I knew how to take him over the edge. I trailed my fingers across his forehead, as if brushing hair away but softer, slower. For once, it wasn't in his eyes. It seemed shorter, perhaps he'd had it cut since Friday. "Tell him...." his voice little more than a whisper.

"I will Pone. I will." When I knew he was out, I looked over him at Two-Bit, who was holding Pony's other hand and softly swirling circles on his shoulder. "Watch over him, Two-Bit. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"No prob, Darry. I got him."

"Just so you're aware, Darrel," Mrs. Nixon intoned softly, "I was given emergency temporary guardianship of Ponyboy. Your whereabouts were still unknown when I brought him in. I'm sure you can understand the dire circumstances of the situation. Mrs. O' Donovan was very helpful in expediting Ponyboy's custodial chain."

In other words, they thought I was dead and Pony was seconds away from being deemed a ward of the state. I understood quite well, and I was immensely grateful.

"Now that you're back, his custody reverts back to you, just as always."

Nurse Carter came in then, rolling me backwards out of the room. My time up.

"Thank you. You're too good, Mrs. Nixon. Just too good."

"If only that were true. Get better soon, Darrel. We'll stay here with Ponyboy for the night."

Nurse Carter pushed me out of the room and back down the way we came.

"Is the operating room area around here?" I asked suddenly as she rolled me around.

"Down a floor and to the right," she answered.

"I need to check on my other brother."

"I was told to bring you right back, Mr. Curtis."

"It won't take but a minute. Two, at the most."

She checked her watch. "I am _so_ gonna get fired for this."

I would have smiled, but the worry building in me wouldn't permit it. She wheeled me right to the desk.

"Evening, Ma'am. I'm Darrel Curtis, Sodapop Curtis's brother. I was told he was here in surgery?"

The nurse at the desk looked at her clipboard.

"He's still in. Won't be out for a while yet."

"Can you tell me anything about him? The extent of his injuries?"

She put the clipboard away. "Sorry, they haven't sent out word."

I sighed. I could tell Nurse Carter was getting short of patience. "I'll be back as soon as the ER releases me. If he gets out of surgery before I get back, could you have the doc call up to room 419 and relay any messages?"

"I'll leave a note for the doctor."

I didn't even have time to say thanks before Nurse Carter had me whisked me back to the elevators and down to the ER. My room was taken by another patient, so I was put in another, smaller room. Minutes took forever, but eventually the doctor came in.

"Mr. Curtis. Evening, sir. I'm Dr. Lowe. Dr. Moorehead said she allowed you to leave to check on your family upstairs. I hope they're okay."

"One's sleeping, the other is still in surgery. I need to get back there to hear how he is."

"I understand. I'll make this simple. You broke a bone in your wrist, so I had it casted before you woke up. The X-rays of your chest show two cracked ribs. Nothing can be done for that; they'll heal on their own provided you take it easy. No work for a week, I'll have the nurse write you a work note. I have some pain medicine for you," he handed me a bottle of pills, the label already having my name on them. "Take no more than two tablets with water every four hours for pain. If it's not holding you, come back and see me. Any questions?"

"No sir. Thanks."

"Fine. I'll have the nurse bring in the discharge papers and remove your IV."

He left, more minutes went by and the nurse came in. I signed her forms, she pulled the IV from my hand and I was free to go. I pocketed the papers and the pills and headed back to the surgical wing.

"Any news yet on Sodapop?" I asked the same nurse. She gave a weak nod.

"They're finishing up now. The doctor will be over to speak with you in a few moments."

I nodded. I felt my heart racing, and the sudden feeling of being hot. Footsteps approached. I wiped my forehead and held out my good hand.

"Sodapop Curtis's family?"

I nodded.

"I'm Doctor Taylor. Sodapop's had a rough go of it. The piece of metal that lodged in his back actually broke a rib and punctured his lung, tearing it so badly I had to remove part of it. The blood loss was pretty significant, but I managed to stop the hemorrhage in time. He's suffered some burns in the fire, mostly first degree but a few small second degree burns along the backs of his arms and elsewhere along his body. Those won't need grafting, just numerous bandage changes until new skin grows.

"I have him on strong antibiotics to counter any likely infection. I also have a chest tube in him to reinflate the right lung which went down from the tear. I have him totally sedated right now, a breathing machine is breathing for him. Once he starts showing improvement, I'll wean the machine off and let him start to breathe on his own again. It's going to be a few days though."

With every word, I felt myself pale more and more. "Were his legs broken?"

"I'm sorry? His legs?"

"When I found him, it looked like his leg was broken."

The doctor shook his head. "No, his knee was dislocated, but I've reset the knee. It'll be in a brace for a while. It's really the least of his problems at this point."

I nodded, grateful for any good news I could get. "Can I see him?"

He looked at me skeptically. "Mr. Curtis, please understand. He's burned and swollen, I have numerous tubes going in and out of him, and I have many machines monitoring him. He's heavily sedated. He's not going to respond to you."

"I understand. I just need to see him, just for a moment."

Another skeptical look later, he conceded with a nod. "Go to the ICU, down the hall and to the left. I'll have a nurse take you to his bedside in a few minutes. You can't stay long. He needs his rest, and it looks like you need rest too. How are you?"

I waved away his concern. "I'm fine."

He looked at me warily, then closed the chart, tucking it under his arm and turning to go. "That's good. You could have been hurt many times worse, judging by the injuries your brother sustained. Good luck to you. I'll check on him in a little while."

I headed down the quiet hallway to the ICU area, pausing to get a drink of water at the fountain. I wasn't feeling so great, but this was hardly the time to stop. I had to see Soda. I _had_ to.

"Sodapop Curtis?" I asked the nurse at the desk. She looked at another nurse who nodded. I went to her.

"I'm Denise, his nurse. Dr. Taylor called and said you were coming over. I've just gotten him settled." She led me to a room filled with machines and monitors, all quietly whirring and beeping around the bed. Looking at him, I hardly recognized him. There were too many tubes, too many wires. IV's hung like a balloon display above him. More of his skin was bandaged than was left bare. It didn't seem possible a person could recover from all this.

"Is he..... will he be alright?" My voice hitched. He seemed to be suffering. I didn't know how a person couldn't suffer with this much done to him.

"He's resting. Sedated. Asleep. You can talk to him, hold his hand."

I wasn't sure _how_ to hold him, or where. Everything seemed to be covered in tape, gauze or wires. Two of his fingers seemed to be unoccupied, so I squeezed them.

"Soda, it's Darry, buddy. You hang in there. Just rest for now. Get better. Take your time, Pepsi. We'll be here. I love ya, little man."

I was getting a weird feeling in my stomach, sweat rolling down my back.. I needed to leave. I gave his fingers one last squeeze and turned. I didn't stop until I was outside the unit doors, breathing the cooler air and leaning against the wall.

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" Some hospital employee just walking through asked me. I steeled myself.

"Yeah, thanks. Just been a long day."

He looked at me as if he didn't believe me, and looked like he was going to go get help. I made a feeble grin, pulled myself up to my regular height and made my way down the hall, hoping there was a spare chair in Pony's room for me, cause I wasn't going to be standing much longer. Everything was finally catching up with me too.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	26. Heavy Demands

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 26

**Heavy Demands**

XXX

The sunlight streamed through the dirty windows, between ugly faded yellow striped curtains and across the room, hitting the whitewashed walls before finally bouncing onto me. I wasn't at home. Without a doubt, I knew _where_ I was, but it took a second to figure out _why._ I was stiff and sore, carefully stretching a bit until movement across the room made me look.

"Hey,_ finally! _I wasn't sure you'd wake up before I had to leave."

Linda was in the corner, sitting on the window ledge. I couldn't help the smile that spread over my face as she hopped down and came to my side, sitting on the bed next to me. She wasn't looking at me though. Something else had her attention. I sat up and followed her hesitant glance through the partially opened door – Darry, Two-Bit and Mrs. Nixon were there, talking quietly amongst themselves but within my line of sight at the nurses station. None were looking my way, but all had worried faces.

She took my hand in hers, looking in my eyes. "They don't know you're awake yet," she softly said. "How do ya feel?"

"What happened?" I murmured low.

"You don't remember the explosion?" she hissed in a low whisper.

I stared at her, trying to remember. "The DX?" I had foggy memories of the whole of yesterday. Most of it was of the long ride back to Tulsa with Linda. Then, as we got to station 21, a … fireball? Then it all came back at once, hitting me square. I squeezed her hand tight, too tight as she winced.

"So...!" I started to say, but she clamped her hand over my mouth.

"Shhhh!" You go getting loud, they'll all be back in here! I heard them talking. He's not …._ dead_, Ponyboy. He's in the intensive care unit, and that other behemoth brother of yours is right outside. They both made it. Don't get so worked up."

"_Worked up?_ My brothers are all that's left of my _family_! I have every _right_ to...!" I was too loud, but her lips closing on mine silenced me._ Okay, that's a more inventive way to shut me up._ A moment later, it was all I could do to try to remember to breathe.

The door was pushed fully open and the sound of Darry clearing his throat jerked me back to my senses. "Morning, Ponyboy. Lin - _da_." Darry's one half angry, one fourth concerned, and one fourth amused voice made me remember the basics again. I took a deep breath before sheepishy turning to look up, glad I was covered in a few blankets.

"Um, morning Darry."

Two-Bit was grinning ear to ear, Mrs. Nixon was red as if she were embarrassed, and Darry … well, I still couldn't tell. He was most definitely_ not _amused, that much I was sure of. However, seeing him with that cast on his arm sobered me up. Kiss forgotten, my family's wellbeing took precedence again.

"What happened to your arm?"

"My hand, Pony, not my arm. Seems I broke a bone in it yesterday. I take it you're, um, feeling better?"

He was still giving me a dirty look and Linda very wisely slid off the bed and backed away.

"Linda, it's time for us to get back on the road. Your parents are already worried about you being here after the explosion. Ponyboy, hope you feel better soon. Give me a call if I can do anything for you." She gave me a hug and gathered her purse, pausing to give me a last look.

"Thanks, Mrs. Nixon, for everything. Have a safe ride back."

She smiled then turned to go. "Come along, Linda." The tone didn't match the smile and both of us knew why._ Busted_.

Linda followed obediently behind and I watched her leave. She winked and moved her hand in a slight wave just before she turned and disappeared out of view, knowing I'd be the only one to catch it. When I looked up, Darry stood at the foot of my bed - arms crossed, face incensed. Two-Bit, on the other hand, was leaning up against the wall behind him silently looking like he was about to bust a gut. I wasn't sure what to say.

"What?" I finally asked, shrugging my shoulders while slapping on the most innocent face I could muster.

Two-Bit gave up trying to be quiet, snickering harder now. "You got your work cut out for you, big guy. Good luck!" He jabbed Darry in the arm.

"Pony, _really_! A hospital?" he hissed. "Of all the places to lose your self control and start making out, you're gonna try it in a_ hospital_? And with _her_? The Viper of Hollis?"

"Her name's Linda, and we _weren't_ making out. It was just a kiss, no big deal."

He rolled his eyes then sat down. "Well that's just great. So you no longer consider kissing a big deal. We'll talk about that and all the other things you don't consider a big deal later. Two-Bit, either get a grip or get out." Two-Bit was still chuckling, but settled down when Darry got serious. Luckily Darry didn't see the thumbs up Two-Bit held aloft to me behind him. I fought hard to hold my amusement at bay. It didn't take long watching Darry ease into the chair, holding his side with a grimace on his face. He was hurt, more than he'd say. Worry settled back into me.

"Darry, how's Soda? Don't lie, just - how is he?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Pone. He's bad. He's in the intensive care unit." Worry ratcheted up in me to a whole other level. Fear began to shimmer down my spine. "He's not burned _too_ bad, just minor stuff that mostly won't leave scars. It looks like the explosion propelled him into the mechanic's pit. There was a steel rod that was sticking up and he.... well, he landed on it. It broke a rib and tore up one of his lungs. They had to remove part of it since they couldn't repair it."

By this time, I had to have turned a few shades different. I wasn't sure if I was nauseous or faint, or if the shaking sensation was just a figment of my imagination or real. I was just glad I was sitting down, I don't think I could literally stand to hear this._ Not Soda. Not my happy go-lucky brother! Not the one who keeps everything in balance between Darry and me. NO! _Two-Bit was now soberly watching me, having moved to take Linda's spot next to me on the bed, his hand over mine.

Time moved, but I wasn't sure how much. Gruesome images I'd suppressed in my memory from a year ago boiled to the surface again. How bad would it be _this_ time? Would he die in front of me too?

"I want to see him." _Was that me that said that? I wasn't sure. It didn't sound like me, but who else __would say that?_

Darry waited half a heartbeat, then shook his head. "Not yet, Pone."

"Why?" I croaked out. Wetness dripped onto my cheeks. Tears. "I _have_ to see him."

"Pone, listen. He's got a lot of machines around him, all helping him to get better. There's not even enough room for me to sit at his side. And.... well, he's got a machine that's helping him breathe. I told you they had to take out part of his lung, well, while it heals, the machine breathes for him. I ...it's just not a good time to go visit with him."

"He's sleeping, Ponyboy. Sedated." Two-Bit offered, trying to convince me too. "He's not in pain."

"_You've_ seen him?" I demanded, incredulous.

Two-Bit looked at Darry.

"Yes, Pony. I took Two-Bit to see Soda earlier, while you were sleeping. Look, it's too much for you to handle. You've been through too much and I don't want you seeing him like this. Period."

I pulled my hand free of Two-Bit and wiped my face. How unfair was it that _Keith Mathews_ got to see my brother, but I could not.

Darry put the tissue box on the bed by my side. I grabbed some and blew my nose. Two-Bit tried to rub circles on my back, but I stiffened at his touch. I was angry but couldn't decide where to direct it. I wanted to see Soda. I didn't care how hurt he was, he was my brother. I had a right!

"Don't be like that, kiddo." Darry implored.

"Would you tell Soda he couldn't see me if the situation was reversed?" I snapped.

"It's not the same, Ponyboy, and you know it. You're gonna have to trust me on this. I'll take you to see Soda when he's.... when_ you're_ better. Don't get yourself so worked up, you're just making your heart race and your blood pressure higher."

I sat there in silence for a bit, glaring into the bedside table as if my eyes could see imaginary pictures in the grain. I didn't want to look at either of them.

More time passed while we sat in silence, the only noise being the staff busying themselves up and down the halls. It was a stalemate. My stomach betrayed me, rumbling without permission. I'd forgotten how long it had been since I'd eaten anything.

Two-Bit picked up a bag sitting in a chair and pulled out a muffin, placing it in front of me. "Here. You slept through breakfast. Thought you might like something to eat." It was blueberry, my favorite. Bribery in it's cruelest form. I picked at it a moment, then gave in to hunger and took a bite. Silently, Darry stepped out and returned a moment later with a small carton of milk, opening it and setting it next to the muffin. After I downed the muffin and had half the milk drunk up, a second muffin was pulled out of the bag. _Traitor_, I thought, glaring at him. Two-Bit balled the bag up and sent it flying to the trash can. By then, I was calmer. I still wanted to see Soda, though.

"How long do I have to wait?" I asked as I finished the milk.

"Doc said you might get released tonight. You're in on a twenty- four hour observational hold. Gotta stay here at least that long. Then, maybe tomorrow, depending."

"I want to see him." I said softly, still not budging.

"Pone, it won't do you any good to see him so sick." He tried to argue the point again, but I cut him off, throwing a card I didn't want to play.

"Is he going to die? Is that why?"

The stricken look on Darry's face hurt even me. He suddenly sat next to me on the bed, carefully cupping my chin to make me look at him. "Ponyboy, don't say that. I wouldn't keep you from Soda like that. He's just really, really sick right now." His eyes weren't frozen anymore and hadn't been in a very long time. They had melted. Now he looked tired beyond his twenty-one years, and I suddenly felt bad, knowing I was mostly to blame for it.

"We know your nightmares haven't ended. You ain't fooling anyone by sleeping in your room alone. We've heard you, whimpering in your sleep. Soda and I have both checked on you several times to find you twisting in the sheets, trying to escape whatever demon haunts you. I don't want to add to that by having you see how hurt Soda is. But Ponyboy, I would _never_ keep you from him if... if the … if he were _dying_. Never!"

"I know." At least, I hoped. He wouldn't let me see Mom or Dad after they had been killed, their caskets closed even for their service. _"Remember them the way they were, Ponyboy. Not like this,_" he'd said at the time. Back then, I was so numb and distraught, I had forgotten I had a voice.

"Sodapop's gonna be fine, Ponyboy. There's just too much equipment in his room." Two-Bit agreed.

I nodded, it was all I could do. Darry let go of my chin and squeezed my shoulder, then let me go.

"But, I _do_ know of someone who could use a little cheering up!"

Darry and Two-Bit exchanged tired smiles. "I'll get a wheelchair. Be right back." Two-Bit headed out to the hallway and came back with a nurse and a wheelchair.

"If he has any problems, bring him right back." She instructed, disconnecting the IV and capping it so I didn't bleed everywhere. Darry helped me in the wheelchair and Two-Bit pushed. A few minutes later, we were outside a room on the sixth floor. The television was on in the room, some football game was playing.

"Well, I was wondering when the clown act would show up." Steve drawled.

"They still got you on the happy stuff there, Stevie?" Two-Bit asked as he looked at the various bottles hanging over him. I grinned.

"Two-Bit, when did you get your medical degree? You don't know what those bottles say any more than I do. Get away from them." I teased.

"Why, Pony, that's where you're wrong there, kid. See, this one says … um.. well, Ter...Tet.... hmm, seems they may have misspelled it. It's got way more letters than really necessary, but it's good stuff. Gonna make Stevie here alllll better."

"Two-Bit - Get. Away. From. Me. _Now_. Before I get out of this bed and pound you." He was smiling though.

Some new _Car & Driver _magazines lay on the bed by his hand. "Tim show?" Darry asked.

"Nope. My pop showed up earlier. He stayed for a bit then left." He had a strange look on his face. I guessed it was painkillers.

"How bad were you hurt, Steve?" No one had told me of Steve's injuries. I just figured he was camping out in the ICU waiting room, waiting on Soda.

"Shit, kid. I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle."

"Yeah, right." Darry dripped sarcasm as he eased into a chair. "Don't let him fool you, Pone. He's got two cracked ribs and they took out his spleen. He'll be fine in a month or so. The ribs, he'll bitch and moan about... but the spleen will keep him on hold a bit longer. Like I said though, he'll be fine." Darry explained while Steve grinned about it. Or maybe it was a grimace. I couldn't tell.

"Yeah, he's too ornery to let a little ole missing internal organ get in his way." Two-Bit joked, coming over to sit down and prop his feet up on the bed. Cheering broke out on the TV and everyone turned to check it out. Someone had made a touchdown. We settled in to watch, Darry and Two-Bit more interested in it than I was. I kept stealing glances at Steve, his eyes glassy and his lids going down for longer and longer blinks. Eventually he must have fallen asleep. I was drowsy too, and before I knew it, Darry had nudged Two-Bit and they both got up. They had me wheeled back to my room before I realized what was going on.

"Back in bed, Pone." Darry instructed. I did the best I could, settling down between the cold sheets. They weren't from home - they were stiff and scratchy from too many chemical washes, but they were better than nothing.

"I want to see Soda, Darry." I mumbled, wanting to conclude our stalemate.

"Go to sleep, Ponyboy." He answered softly.

I didn't argue.

XXX

"You can't keep him away forever, Darry."

"Two-Bit, let me handle this."

A moment of silence passed between them as they each glared at the other.

"I gotta go check on him. You gonna hang here?" Darry asked, looking at Pony's sleeping face.

Two-Bit sighed, dropping his head into his hands with a nod. "You even gotta ask? You know I will. I gotta head home here in an hour though. I'll be back later tonight. You need anything?"

Darry swallowed a pill from a bottle, washing it down with some water from Ponyboy's nightstand. "No. Pony's supposed to get discharged this evening. I'll take him home and get a shower and a change of clothes then."

"And _then_ what? Darry, I'm just trying to keep it real, man. You can't keep him away forever."

"Just one more night, Two-Bit. That's it. Hopefully, Soda'll be better in the morning." He stood, wincing. Two-Bit said nothing. The big guy was hurting but would never admit it. He checked his watch. "I'll be back in an hour then, so you can go. Say 'hey' to your mom for me."

"Will do. Tell Soda for me to get his ass better."

They each weakly grinned at the other, then Darry left the room. Two-Bit settled himself in the chair, watching Ponyboy sleep while worrying about a family that wasn't technically his, but felt like it should be.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	27. The Daily Greaser Grind

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 27

**The Daily Greaser Grind**

XXX

"We've taken the sedation down a bit, seeing what he can do on his own for a while," the nurse taking care of him explained to me when I walked in. He looked better now that much of the swelling had gone down. "The machine is still doing most of the work, but this will get his lungs in better condition to take over breathing later."

"Does that mean you're waking him up?"

"More like - leaving him groggy. He won't be _alert_, just more awake than he's been. Remember, with that tube, he won't be able to talk."

"Why are his hands tied?" I didn't like seeing him tied to the bed like he was. He wasn't an animal.

"It's to keep him from hurting himself, trying to pull the tubes out. It's a disorienting feeling, all the tubes and wires. Until the breathing tube comes out, we have to protect him from himself. He's able to reach some, move around a bit. Just not enough to where he can reach the tube in his mouth."

"How long before that comes out?" I needed to hear Soda's voice. Of all the things going on with him, hearing his voice would give me the most reassurance.

"Maybe tomorrow. Not right now. He's not ready."

Soda opened his eyes, seemingly looking at me and I stepped over to his bedside. They were just brown orbs, glassy... half there, half not. He was trying though, fighting the sedation. I knew his spirit well enough to see it. His hand slowly wormed into mine, his strength zapped. Damn, he was weak. He struggled against the tube in his throat, making alarms go off around him. The nurse silenced them, then stepped out to give us some privacy.

"Shh, Soda. Don't try to talk. I'm here. You got a breathing tube in your mouth. One of your lungs got hurt, and the doc had to put this tube in to help you. It'll come out soon, real soon buddy. Just hang in there. Don't move around too much. Just rest."

The only motion from him for a long while was the occasional opening of his eyes to look around before they drifted shut again. A while later his lips moved, making me look closer as tried in vain to read them. I couldn't figure out what he was wanting so I started taking random guesses.

"Pain? Are you in pain?" The question had to sit in his brain a while before he could gather the energy to respond, which was agony to me. He shook his head slightly.

"Hungry? You want some food?" He rolled his eyes. I took that as a 'no'. I thought about it harder, my patience already thin but holding in my frustration for his sake.

"Bathroom?" It was a long shot, seeing as how the nurses were managing that need. He had to be just as frustrated as I was, as he managed enough strength to glare at me. I nearly laughed. Then it came to me, making perfect sense.

"Pony?" He nodded, relaxing some and closing his eyes as if he'd just finished one of Pony's track sprints. "He's fine. He's downstairs in another room." Soda's eyes instantly opened again, widening in obvious concern. I should have known that Ponyboy, hurt or in danger, would pull Soda out of any sleep or sedation. If I could bottle their passion for each other, I'd make some serious dough. "Calm down, Soda. He's not hurt, just here for observation. He'll be released tonight. He's giving me a hard time, being his bull-headed self as usual." I smiled, hoping to reassure Soda. "He wants to come see you, but I think this is a bit much for him to take." Soda faintly nodded. At least I had someone on my side. Unfortunately, he had no voice to back me up.

His eyes closed and for a moment I thought he'd fallen back to sleep. I brushed his hair from his forehead. The staff had cleaned him up, even washing the grease from his hair so it lay against his forehead in silky tufts. Now it was his turn for the barber, seeing as how Pony's hair finally looked decent again. At least that viper was good for something. Every time he was with her, he always came back with his hair cut. Soda opened his eyes again, looking at me.

"What?" I asked, watching his lips again. "Steve?" He nodded. I smiled, finally guessing right on the first try. "That's a hood that can take a whallop. He's going to be fine. He's upstairs too. Cracked some ribs and they took out his spleen." Soda obviously wasn't happy with this news. He moved around some, the motions ineffective, not even rumpling the sheet over him. However, it was enough to sound off alarms on several machines in the room. A nurse stuck her head in to check on things then left again.

"Soda, look at me. He's going to be fine. He's upstairs right now, cracking jokes. You need to rest. If you don't, they'll sedate you again and that tube won't come out. Now, no more." I demanded with a little more grit to my tone. "Settle it down. Everything is going to be fine. Just rest."

I softly patted his shoulder, watching him as he relaxed. I thought he was asleep again when I turned to go, but I felt his fingers graze my arm. I turned back. "Yeah, Pepsi?"

His mouth moved in a way I didn't recognize. "I... I don't...." I had to shake my head, and he tried it again. He wasn't asking about anyone in the gang, that much I was sure of. His hand touched mine. I looked down and watched him spell it out on the sheet with his finger.

_A....r......m......y.....d.....r....._ Then it clicked. "The draft board?" I whispered. He nodded, closed his eyes and relaxed again. He was getting worn out. I would have to leave soon.

"Don't worry about them, Soda. I'll go deal with them for you. There won't be no trouble. You just get some rest, get better. Don't think of it." The nurse was eying me. "I got to go for a bit, Pepsi. Looks like my visiting time's up for now. I'll try to come back to see you later. Sleep, Soda. Get better. Love ya." His fingers found mine, but he was far too tired to do anything. I patted his hand and left.

X

I purposefully took my time walking back to the elevators to go back to the fourth floor. My head swam with all the things I had to do, with all the messes I had to deal with. It seemed like a never ending onslaught hitting me from every angle. My aching arm brought me back to reality. I wasn't sure how exactly I was going to work, just glad it wasn't my right hand that I broke. I could still wield a hammer at least.

I knew I was going to have to work through the pains in my hand and my side. The pain pills helped, but they didn't eliminate it. I could at least be grateful they didn't leave me woozy - I could still function in my job and bring home some kind of paycheck. Hard to believe how one small bone in my wrist and two cracked ribs could cause this much bother. I'd already called my boss, gotten the week off like the doc ordered. Three days came with pay, seeing as how I'd put in so much overtime when the tornadoes came. The other two... well, we'd manage. Somehow.

"Just get back to work as soon as you can, Darrel," Mr. Campbell, my boss, instructed.

"I will, thank you sir." I wondered how much patience the man would have with me before I broke the proverbial last straw.

I took a sore breath and eased open Pony's door. The both of them were on the bed, lights down, TV on while watching The Lone Ranger reruns. Pony was laying on his stomach, feet where his head was supposed to be, his head where his feet belonged while Two-Bit was sitting Indian style leaning against pillows stuffed at the head of the bed. Pony's IV was gone, a band-aid covered the spot where it had been. He could be sitting on the couch at home for all the medical care he was receiving right now.

"How's Soda?" Pony asked, his voice eager.

"He's sleeping. I sort of expected you to be doing the same. They took your IV already?" I didn't think they'd do that until he was ready for discharge. According to my watch, that was still a few hours away.

He looked sheepish. "Um, it sort of got pulled out. Accidental like."

"You didn't do it yourself, did you?"

He grinned, but shook his head. "No, Two-Bit and I were sort of goofing off, it got snagged and pulled out. Honest! The tape tore my skin in the process, might leave a tuff scar or something. See? Look!" He held his hand up to me but I ignored it. Instead, I glowered at Two-Bit who looked just as guilty.

"Kid's telling you the truth. We were sort of arm wrestling and it got pulled. He's okay though, he's a rough and tumble grease!" He reached over and ruffled Ponyboy's hair. I rolled my eyes.

"Does the nurse know?"

"Yeah, she came in and put a band-aid on it. Said I was going home soon and didn't need it anyway. Can we stop by and see Soda before we leave?"

I hesitated before shaking my head. Pony shot me a disgruntled look. Two-Bit thankfully kept his trap shut.

"I _want_ to see him, Darry. I don't care what he's hooked to, I gotta see him. You think I haven't seen someone severely injured before? I have! Johnny....."

Pony stopped himself, a stricken look on his face and a shiver quivering his body from whatever was crossing his mind. It only took a second for him to regroup.

"I can handle it. I probably won't like it, but I_ can _handle it. Stop treating me like I'm a little kid!"

"Pony, I'm not going to argue with you. Tomorrow. I'll take you tomorrow. Now let it go."

Two-Bit got up. "Well buckaroo's, I gotta head to my own pad now. See how my own sibling is fairing and if Mom remembers who I am. I'll be back to check on things tomorrow, after school. Bye guys." Two-Bit left and I shook my head in disbelief.

"School? You mean he really _is_ trying to pass this year?" My amazement momentarily brought a needed lift to the atmosphere. At least, for me.

"Yeah, he's been putting more effort into it. I think he'll make it." Pony's dejected voice answered. I sat next to him.

"Look, Pone. I know I don't always make the decisions you want me to make, but I always try to keep your welfare in mind with everything I do."

He snorted. "This decision-making thing ain't your forte, Darry. Just like last summer when you wanted me to decide who to live with. That went over about as well as a fart in a space suit. You were wrong then just as you are now, and you know it."

He was angry, but his ire made me laugh. Where he came up with these gems was only a testament to his spontaneous creativity.

"Pony, he's worn out. He gets tired easily. I wasn't with him very long, and he's already whipped. Let him rest tonight and tomorrow I'll take you. Besides, you don't want him seeing you with fuzzies on your face and tired eyes, do you?"

He felt along his jaw and nodded, finally seeing it my way. I started to get up, but he stopped me, setting his hand on the crook of my elbow. I looked over at him.

"Yeah?"

"I thought I'd lost you. _Both_ of you."

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. I knew that was the biggest fear he had, that he'd lose the rest of us. I couldn't blame him, the way things had been going over the last two years - statistically, it was the predictable outcome. But this wasn't statistics, this was life. I cupped his cheek with my good hand and surprisingly, instead of looking up like I expected him to, he leaned into me.

"I ain't going anywhere, Ponyboy." His green eyes finally opened and looked at me. Pain, heartache, loneliness, sorrow, despair. They were all there. Emotions no kid his age should have, at least not in this quantity. "And you'll never be alone. Even if, God forbid, something _does _happens to me... Mrs. Nixon's waiting in the wings to take you in. Although, you keep up those antics with a certain Viper, and you'll think you had it easier with me!"

He half-heartedly grinned. It was clearly obvious to me, he had a pretty severe thing going for that girl. I was grateful she was back on her side of the state by now. Seeing them lip-locked had permanently aged me ten years.

"Ponyboy?" Dr. Moorehead was in the doorway. "Evening, Darrel. I've been reviewing Ponyboy's chart, and even though it's a few hours early, I think he's recovered and can go home. I leave it to you if you think he should go to school in the morning. I can sign a note if you want him to stay out. Ponyboy, you can get dressed. Darrel, the nurse will have his papers out at the desk for you to sign. Bring him back if he starts to feel bad or shows signs of stress. Any questions?"

I had none and Ponyboy kept his trap shut too. She nodded and closed the door. Pony hopped out of bed and pulled his bag out that he'd brought back from Hollis, slipping on some clean jeans and a shirt; ready to go before I could blink.

"Hold on, little man. I still have to go sign you out. Stay here."

I left him watching television and went to the nurses desk to find the nurse with the papers and start signing about a billion forms. Mrs. Nixon had assumed custody of him when he was admitted, so the state was footing his bill. As I was back in the position as guardian, I had to review all her signed statements and initial them. Then had to sign all sorts of stuff separate from the admission papers. There were a lot of forms. It was about a half hour before I was done. Once again, I was glad my broken hand wasn't my dominant one. My scrawl was bad enough without having to fight a cast on it.

I got back, expecting to find him sitting on the bed, watching television and waiting on me. Instead, what I found was an empty room. "Ponyboy?" His bags were still here, closed and ready to go, but he was nowhere to be found. The bathroom door was closed with the light on glowing beneath it. I knocked. "Pone? You okay?" Nothing. I opened it. It was empty.

"Shit!" I mumbled. The only advantage I had was I knew how to get to the ICU by now. Still, he had a half hour advantage over me.

I raced along the halls, hoping I could beat him there yet knowing I wouldn't. I should have expected this! I should have anticipated it! Those two were an unstoppable force of nature when it came to getting to each other's side when one of them was hurt. Why did I let my guard down? _Why why why why WHY!_

I made it back to the ICU to find Ponyboy standing next to Soda's bed, silent tears falling one at a time down his face, his arms hugging himself tightly as he visibly shook. The whole picture of Soda's condition was hard to take in for the first time and I had only just gotten used to it. Pony, expectedly, was taking it hard.

"Pony! _Why?_ I told you...."

Pony's small hand came out, stopping me in mid-sentence. I knew in an instant that he fully expected a berating. He'd take it, but seeing Soda had to have been the only overriding thought in his mind.

"Soda?" Pony said, calm despite the obvious emotion reeking havoc on his face. He laced his fingers with Soda's, stepping an inch closer. "Sodapop?"

I went behind Pony, putting my hands on his shoulders and easing him back onto my chest. This wasn't going to get any easier. At least now Pony could see the truth. Soda had a long road to recovery.

Soda stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He amazed me with his next action, smiling. Actually smiling! It was faint and fleeting, but it was there. Then he closed his eyes again.

"I love you, Soda. You'd better get better. I need you." Pony's voice cracked.

Soda nodded slightly. The machines around him beeped and buzzed and hummed, the breathing machine whooshed air in and out; below on the floor, the chest tube bottles bubbled away. Everything was working in harmony to put Soda back together.

"He needs rest, Ponyboy." I whispered into his ear. I felt him nod against my chest. He let go of Soda's hand and let me lead him out. Once in the hall, Pony stopped and wrapped his arms around me. He trembled but didn't cry as families of other patients were passing by, some looking at us for a moment before averting their eyes, pretending they didn't notice.

With my good hand, I raked his hair. For that moment, he needed me. He let his guard down and let me in. I took it, thankful for this rare moment of brotherliness that we'd somehow lost over the years. I wanted to hold him forever, comfort him and have him trust me like he used to so long ago; but soon I felt him regroup and pull away.

"Lets go home, kiddo. We'll come back tomorrow. You need to go to school in the morning."

"School? But!" he started to protest.

"Uh uh. No buts. You got your visit with Soda. I'm angry enough that you did this, but what's done is done. Besides, there's not much more to do here. You know he would rather you were out doing something more constructive with your time. That means school. That's the end of it."

He nodded, conceding defeat without an argument. "I'm taking the bus over when classes are done though."

"I expected nothing less." I answered, putting an arm around him. He looped his around mine and together we went to get his bags and head home.

XXX

The whimpering woke me. I glanced at my clock, the numbers glowing into the darkness. 2:43. I stumbled to my feet, softly bouncing off the walls making my ribs hurt that much more as I made my way down the hall. The whimpering was coming from Pony, of course. No one else would be here. The other two inhabitants – one full time the other part time - were at the hospital.

"Ponyboy?" I called out gently. I flipped on the hall light letting a soft glow cast itself into the room. "Pony, I'm here."

He was twisted in the sheet, sweat saturating his hair leaving even his pillow damp. At my touch, he stopped whimpering, but the twisting continued. It required a little more coaxing, a little more rubbing of his back and some stroking of his face, all done with my only good hand - but eventually, he woke up.

"Darry?" He blinked back, confused.

"Yeah, Pone. It's me." I yawned. "You were having another nightmare. Wanna talk about it?"

"No. I, uh. No, I'm fine. Sorry I woke you."

"Okay then." I yawned again, getting up. "Try to get some sleep."

I shut off the light and wound my way back to my room. In the darkness before I fell asleep again, I thought I heard a stumbling in the hallway, but dismissed it, falling back to sleep before my mouth could form the words to call out and ask.

In the morning, I found Pony asleep in Soda's bed, his long arms and legs twined around the linens and pillows that had once been theirs. I was about to let him skip school today, but changed my mind. I had a lot to do, and wondering where he was would not help matters at all. There was no way I could take him with me where I was going.

"Pony, time to get up. C'mon, kiddo. Time to get back in the action. School. Classwork. Homework. Lockers. All that stuff. Lets go."

And a new day was started once again.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	28. Meeting Michelle

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 28

**Meeting Michelle**

XXX

"You okay, Pone?" Two-Bit was looking at me, his usual comical grin absent. I lied, sort of.

"Yeah, fine. Just a headache." I really did have a headache, and the rubbing of my temples wasn't all fake out. It was nearly lunch time and I had stopped at my locker between classes to get my book before feigning attention in yet another class for another hour. My hand went to my stomach as it gave a cold lurch. I'd felt queasy most of the morning despite the hastily made PB&J I'd slapped together just as Two-Bit showed up at my house to escort me to school.

Darry had been dressed and ready to go too, heading to the hospital to see Soda this morning without me. He thought I couldn't handle seeing him, but I had. Admittedly, he was worse off than I imagined. There were more bandages, tubes, and machines than even my wild imagination had pictured.

"Kid, your nose is bleeding."

"What?" Then I saw the dark red drops on my shirt, a fresh one falling on my hand as I turned to look at the mirror in my locker. "Crap." I grabbed my gym towel and wiped my nose, shut my locker with a bang and headed straight for the boy's restroom a few doors down; Two-Bit following along behind.

I pressed a wadded up handful of toilet paper against my nose, pressing it and waiting for the bleeding to stop. I could taste the warm blood as it dripped down the back of my throat. I hopped up on the windowsill to rest, leaning my head back against a very dirty, painted-over window pane. _Does anyone ever clean in here? Gross!_

"Think you'll make it to class?" Two-Bit finally asked.

I blinked, looking at him. "Sure. It's just a nosebleed. No big deal." I pulled the red- splotched toilet paper away and waited. I felt a trickle coming down again and pressed a fresh wad of tissue against my nose. "I just have to wait for it to stop, that's all."

More silence.

"You saw him, didn't you? After I left last night." It was more accusatory than a question. I ignored the implication.

"Yeah. Darry was doing the paperwork, so I snuck out to see him. I'm _family._ The nurses didn't stop me." I wasn't sure how I sounded outside my head like this, but inside I sounded like Donald Duck.

"Tsk, tsk. Kid, sometimes it would do you good to maybe listen to that big brother of yours. You know he's just looking out for you."

"Soda's also my brother. I had a right." I wasn't fighting him, just stating how I felt. Damn, my head hurt. I moved the tissue away and waited again, this time no new dripping came. I tossed the red and white balls of tissue away and washed my hands, then put my still-wet hands on my temples to try to sooth the ache with the cold water residue. The bell rang, I was late for class. Double damn. "I gotta go. See ya in an hour?"

"Yeah, kid. Meet me at my car."

I hurried back to my locker, grabbed my bag, swiped my hidden bottle of aspirin from my locker shelf and sprinted down the hall.

XXX

"How is he this morning?" I asked.

The nurse smiled. "Doing better. I think the doctor is going to turn off the sedation and make him breathe more on his own today."

I smiled. That sounded good, even though I had no clue how they were going to do that. Watching the staff had been educational. They did everything as if it were second nature. Nothing seemed to disgust them or wig them out in the least. They changed bloodied, soiled bandages with zero disdain - as if even the nastiest bandage was no more significant than, say, paper napkins from a messy meal. Even when they had to _clean him_ clean him, which I even opted to stay in the room for, they performed that task with grace, skill and professionalism beyond anything I'd ever seen before. They assured me that one of the medications Soda was on acted more like a amnesiac, so most of this he wouldn't remember anyway.

They finished just as the doctor came in. One of the nurses left, the other stayed.

"Time to wake him up." He had Soda's chart in his hand and scribbled a bunch of stuff down, then left. I inched closer to see what he wrote, but couldn't make heads or tails out of it. _Damned doctor scrawl... what college do they go to to learn this? _

The nurse was grinning at me as she worked to untangle Soda's IV lines. They were like Christmas lights, always getting tangled up. "Well, have you figured out what it says?"

I grinned, caught in the act. "No. Not a clue." She probably knew I'd never decipher it. I gave her a second glance, something about her grabbed my attention, although I couldn't really say what.

She came over and looked down at the chart. I noticed her left hand sported a small diamond set atop a thin gold band. _Engaged or married, I can't tell. She seemed awful young to be married already._ Either way, it didn't matter, she was spoken for. Then, when I realized what I was thinking, I could have slapped myself … I wasn't here for_ this,_ I was here for Soda.

"It says, 'wean sedation as tolerated, have Inhalation Therapy change mode to Assist Control rate 15, Volume 500, 50%. If patient tolerates, draw blood gases two hours after change and call me with results.'" She looked at me and smiled, laughing quietly some. "Get all that?"

I had to shake my head, still smiling. "Not a bit. What does all that mean?" I needed a translation for the translation.

She stood up and went to one of the IV machines, hitting some buttons. "It means, wake him up and have the therapist managing the breathing machine come over and do the voodoo they do to make him breathe more on his own."

"Ah." That made more sense. Sort of.

"I'll be right back." She went to a phone at the desk and called someone, then returned. "He'll be waking up more as this gets processed out of his system. The machines may beep a bit more too, that's to be expected. The Inhalation Therapist will be here soon. In the meantime, I have to go check on my other patients. Darrel, is it?"

Hmmm? "Darry," I said, sticking out my hand to shake hers before I could stop myself. She surprised me. Her hand, albeit small, was very strong.

"Darry, then. I'm Michelle, his nurse. I'll be back to check on him again in a while."

She left and I stepped closer to Soda. I took his hand in mine, holding it, waiting for him to show more movement. A few minutes later, some man came in, checked the chart laying out and fiddled with the breathing machine. It beeped a bit then settled down.

"I'm his brother, is he, uh, is he doing better?"

"Morning, Mr. Curtis. It seems that way. I'm Mark, one of the Inhalation Therapists here. We're hoping to get this tube out later today. If he flies right, we may get that out by mid afternoon."

"How bad is it gonna be for him, only having one lung?" My worry was he'd be connected to something to help him breathe the rest of his life. But, if that was what we had to deal with, then we would deal with it.

"One lung?" Mark consulted his papers on his clipboard and then the chart again. "Mr. Curtis, he only had one _lobe_ removed - from his right lung. Not the whole lung. Broke a rib too. That must have been one heck of an explosion. Anyway, he still has the other two lobes on the right, and the left lung seems to have escaped unscathed, except - of course - from all the chemicals he inhaled. He should be fine, in time. Probably will tire out easier, but he'll have just as good a life as he wants, despite everything and baring further injury, of course."

That gave me more relief than anything I'd heard yet. Then I remembered something else.

"Um, Mark... could he serve in the military like this?"

Mark chuckled, trying to hide it by scratching his chin. I guess to him it was a stupid question.

"No, I don't believe he'd be fit for service. Why, was he planning to go in?"

"_Planning to_, no. He got a draft notice a few weeks ago. He's supposed to report this week. I'm the only one he's told. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything. As to his his ability to serve, I doubt he's going to able to do that. Was it something he was looking forward to?"

"Not exactly, no. Any idea's on what I should do?"

Mark looked at Soda, held the clipboard and thought about it. "I had another case sort of similar to this. I'd suggest talking to his doctor and have him write a letter to the draft people he's supposed to report to, explaining Sodapop's condition and how he's not fit to report for duty. Take it to them for him. Be aware, they may want more proof than just the letter. It's not unusual for them to send someone out to verify his condition. Then, it should just be a stamp on the paperwork, making him 4-F, ineligible to serve."

"You're sure about this?"

Mark nodded without hesitation. "Yep. He'd never pass the physical."

I looked at Soda, still asleep. I pushed his hair from his eyes.

"Anything else, Mr. Curtis?"

I looked back at Mark. "No, thanks.. thanks a lot. I appreciate it."

"No problem. I'll be back to check on him soon. Have Michelle call me if he needs anything." He left the room and for a while it was just the two of us.

I watched as his breathing changed from the rhythmical _in-two three, out-two three_ that had been going on for over two days. Now, each breath seemed different, no two alike. His eyes moved under the lids and his fingers jerked a bit.

"Soda? Soda, I'm here. It's Darry, you're safe. You're in the hospital. It's going to be okay."

An alarm went off on one machine, then a bit later, another alarm went off. No one at the desk seemed remotely interested or concerned. I felt my own heart racing as a third, separate alarm went off. I was wavering on whether to leave him and find Michelle or stay when she walked in.

"I heard the bells." She looked at me and smiled, then turned to hit the silence buttons on the various machines making all the racket. She checked everything over and seemed satisfied. "Relax, Darry. He's fine. Remember, I said the beeping might increase? He's waking up, that's all."

She turned from me to Soda. "Sodapop?" she said clearly but gently. His eyes cracked open, only thin slits giving way to the brown iris's beneath. "I'm Michelle, your nurse. Can you hear me?" She took a washcloth and wiped the perspiration from his face and upper chest. Soda nodded. "Good. You're in the hospital. You have a tube helping you breathe. Do you remember the fire?" He nodded again, closing his eyes tight then opening them again a little wider. I felt him squeeze my hand stronger than before. "If you do okay breathing with the machine, later this afternoon we'll remove the tube and let you breathe on your own and talk again. Okay?" Soda nodded a third time. I knew he had to hate being relegated to just yes or no questions.

"Are you in pain?" He shook his head. I hoped he wasn't, wondering if he were - would he even tell. Pain killers meant sedation. Sedation meant the tube stayed in. "Let me know if you are. Just relax and work on your breathing. I'll keep checking on you."

She stepped back to the side of his bed where his daily charting rested on a small table and started writing. I looked at her.

"Is there anything I can do for him?"

She put her pen down and looked up, her eyes shining. "Just talk to him. Encourage him. You've been doing fine so far."

"I have?" I hadn't felt that way, mostly seeming to be in the way of all the staff with my too big frame for this too small room. It seems I've been doing the tango, dancing around the machines and the nurses while trying not to step on anything or anyone.

"Uh huh. I've been watching you. You're very supportive. It's refreshing to see that. Most families don't know what to do and stay as far from the patients as they can. You're opposite of that, even staying for his bath this morning. That's a rarity. I'm sure that had to be difficult for you, seeing your younger brother so vulnerable."

I nodded, agreeing in silence. "The chest tube looks the worst of everything. That big tube is really stuck in him?" It looked like a garden hose had been shoved through his skin. A whole role of tape secured it to his side. It had to hurt. It _had_ to.

She smiled. She had an engaging smile. I couldn't help myself, despite the ring on her hand, I was drawn to it. "Yes, it's in him alright. Right through the ribs and into the space around his lung. It's slowly sucking out the air that got trapped in his chest, keeping his lung from inflating. Once the lung is reinflated, the doctor will pull the tube out... that's the only time it really hurts, but it's over in a flash and he'll be fine."

She was smiling at Soda now. I followed her gaze and noticed Soda had been listening. His eyes weren't so foggy.

"You're going to be fine, Sodapop. Darry and I were talking about a chest tube in your side. You sustained a bad lung injury, but it's getting better. Just relax and work on your breathing. Do you need anything?"

He slowly shook his head.

"I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

She left again and I resumed my spot at his side. "Okay, Pepsi, truth. Are you hurting?"

He gave me a look. His hand went up as far as the restraint would allow, his thumb and index finger separated by an inch of space.

"Is it tolerable?"

He nodded, blinking his eyes and trying to swallow. It looked like he was gagging, but didn't struggle.

His fingers were spelling something on the sheet. I had to watch closely to figure it out. _P.... o.... __n....y....._

"Ponyboy?" I should have known. He nodded. "He's at school, or better be. I got Two-Bit keeping tabs on him. He said he's coming over on the bus this afternoon. He'd better not skip or I'll skin him."

Soda grinned, wriggling some.

"Tired? Be honest."

He shook his head.

His hand was tapping his thigh, I looked, but didn't see anything unexpected.

"Pain?" I tried. He shook his head again.

I looked further down his leg, even raising the sheet up. "Your knee?" He nodded. It was the one he'd dislocated the kneecap in, causing his leg to twist when he'd been blasted into the pit. "You tore the knee up a bit. It's in a brace, just like when you tore your ligament before. You'll be able to walk on it again … later. There are other things more pressing to worry over for now."

He furrowed his forehead, either disbelieving me or perhaps cussing me out in silence. He raised his hand, wanting to feel something on his body, but the restraints held him back. The look on his face deepened to a worsening frustration and he jerked his hands up, harder and more forceful, the soft restraints continuing to hold him. No doubt about it, he was angry. I leaned over him, once again combing his hair with my fingers. It was all the touching I could do with him like this. His eyes locked on mine.

"Sorry, buddy, it's for your own good. You have a lot of tubes going in and out of you, and we can't take that chance that you'll pull something either on purpose or on accident. Now, relax and get better." His eyebrows scrunched together in a frown but he settled down. Every now and then, he would open his eyes and look at me then close them again.

Not long later, I spotted his doctor walking around the ICU and I turned to go. Soda grabbed my hand, however, holding on surprisingly tight. "Soda, I'll be right back." I ran my finger across his forehead, not missing how his eyes begged me not to leave. "I promise, Sodapop, I'm not leaving. Three cups of coffee and a Mountain Dew are, however, telling me I need to take care of business. Relax, buddy. I'll be right back." He nodded, releasing me.

"Excuse me, sir?" I said when I made my way over to the doctor's table. He looked up.

"Mr. Curtis, what can I do for you?"

I explained the draft board issue and he nodded his head, agreeing with what Mark had said.

"I'd be happy to write up a letter for him. I'll have it for you this afternoon." He looked over my shoulder at Soda's room. "How's he doing? Nurse Ross has turned off the sedation by now, I presume?"

Nurse Ross? Oh, Michelle. Michelle Ross. "Yes. He's waking up and answering questions already."

"Good, good. If all goes well, that tube should be ready to come out by around three. No promises though." He checked his watch. "I have to go now. I'll be back later to see him. I'll have that letter for you too. If you're not here, I'll leave it with his nurse." He got up and went out one door while I went out another to find the men's room. After that, I took a break and headed upstairs. It was time to check on the other injured member of our motley crew.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	29. Second Cousin's Brother's Nephew

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 29

**Second Cousin's Brother's Nephew, Twice Removed**

XXX

"Pop,_ really,_ you ain't gotta do this."

"She needs to know. You're her _son_, Steven. Her only kid."

I shouldn't have been standing here listening to this, but I couldn't make myself leave, either.

"If she gave a damn about either of us, she wouldn't have split years ago in the first place."

"Boy, don't talk that way about your momma." Mr. Randle's voice deepened.

"Why not? You talk about her worse." Steve countered in an equally low tone.

"I have that right. I'm the man she two-timed on. There are things you don't know ... she ... it wasn't just ... oh, damn it to hell son! Fine, you want the whole truth? Well, I guess you're old enough for it by now. Your mother wasn't just messing around on me with him, she was using, Steven, _using, _and he was her supplier_._ I never told you about the drugs, it ain't exactly something I wanted you to know about."

"Save it. I knew."

"You did?"

"Hell yeah, Pop. I _knew_. I ain't blind and stupid. I was old enough to know, old enough to understand. I saw what was happening, more than you did."

A heavy silence sat there a moment.

"Sorry, Steven. Anyway, I have a right to hate her. You, however, _don't._ She's your mother. Hate me, for all the wrong I've done to you, God knows I deserve it. She didn't leave you, Steven, she left me. You just happened to get left behind in the process, mixed up in her mess."

"Shit, Pop, she left us both. She didn't want me from the get-go, and I don't want her back. She's probably moved up to smack by now. Her brains probably fried. She wouldn't know me from a stranger on the street."

"She's in rehab, Steven. In Oklahoma City. She called a month ago, asking about you."

"Really. Asking about _me_. That's a damn lie and you know it."

It wasn't a question and he didn't sound surprised. He said everything with daring disbelief oozing from every word.

"Fine. Money. She wanted money. But she _did_ ask about you. I told her you were finally doing good and to stay the hell away from you. But I can call her back. She should know you've been hurt. Hell, son, I nearly lost you."

"Your compassion overwhelms me pop," Steve said icily. "Just where the hell _were_ you that night?"

"Don't take that tone with me, boy. You might be eighteen, but as long as you live under my roof, you'll treat me with the damn respect I deserve. And to answer your question, I was in a meeting with some of the men I work with."

"Hell, Pop, is that what you're calling it these days? A_ meeting_? You were down at Jumpin' Jenny's in the River Street district getting plowed. Like I said, I ain't..."

Steve never finished his sentence, the sound of fist hitting flesh wasn't something new to me. To think it'd happen _here _was the surprising factor. I pushed the door open hard, just in time to see Steve rubbing his jaw where it was turning red and Mr. Randle backing away, his hand still balled up in a fist. Both wore expressions of fury and shock.

"Afternoon, Mr. Randle. I think you'd better leave now. _Now,_ sir. _Right_ now." I was two seconds from taking that sorry ass of his and slamming him face first into what I knew to be painted cinder block walls. The cast on my hand wasn't what was stopping me, nor was it fear of this middle aged slightly overweight piece of scum. It was knowing if I did anything _here_, Pony would be stripped from my custody in less time than it takes to blink. Hospital employees often make credible, reliable witnesses that no judge would dispute.

"Sorry, son. I'll check in on you later."

He turned and whirled past me; it taking more self control than I thought possible not to touch him in the process. I watched him leave then turned to Steve.

"You okay?"

"How much did you hear?"

I looked at him. "You really should ask how much you want me to forget instead."

"Shit." His head rolled back onto the pillow, his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Don't sweat it. How ya doing?"

"Better. The nurses are anal retentive about me getting up to walk. I did, but damn, it feels like I got tackled headlong in the gut. They tapered down my pain meds too. The new stuff still works, but don't leave me feeling so loopy. How's Soda?"

"Better. They've taken off his sedation. He might come off the breathing machine today."

"Two-Bit told me how bad he is. Hey, go get a wheelchair. I need a change of scenery. Lets go visit." He started to get up, pulling the linens off and swinging his feet over the bed.

"He's in the ICU, Steve; not the gift shop. I don't think they're gonna let you just roll on in."

"It's worth a shot. They haven't plugged me back into anything yet. They'll never know. C'mon, Darry. If you don't take me, I'll only end up stealing a chair and going down on my own. You know I will."

I raised my eye at him. "You know, for all your arguing, you and Ponyboy are more alike than you think." I found a wheelchair at the end of the hall and had Steve in it, wheeling him toward the elevators in two shakes of a lambs tail.

X

"Darry?" Michelle asked as I came through the double doors with Steve in tow. "I'm sorry, but while your _family_ can come in, other visitors can't."

"But Michelle, he_ is_ family. This is Steve, my second cousin's brother's nephew, twice removed." Lets see if one of Pony's answers actually worked on anyone else. I doubted it. Oddly enough, she laughed. I'll be damned!

"Yeah, right! Tell you what, leave the wheelchair by the nurse's station and if he can walk, he can have three minutes. Only three! I'll be watching."

_I hope so_. I smiled. "Thanks." As she walked back to the other patient's room, I helped Steve stand up.

"Alright Steve, you heard her. Don't make me look bad, and no passing out."

"Hell, Darry, if I didn't know better, I'd say you two were kind of chummy. Already on a first name basis?"

"Shut it, Steve, or I'll haul you back upstairs in one minute, not three. She's wearing a ring, in case you didn't notice, and seeing as how it's on her left hand fourth finger, I doubt it's just for friendship."

I led him to Soda's side. "Hey, Pepsi, look who I found wandering around."

Soda's eyes shined, his heart rate went up and his eyes got red and misty.

"Hey, you nut-case, none of that. No waterworks. Yeah, buddy, I was worried about you too." Steve took Soda's hand, each gripping the other. Steve did a fast look up and down the bed, taking it all in but saying nothing. I saw the concern in him by the way he set his jaw, he wasn't expecting this. "I sort of snuck in. How ya holding up?"

Soda nodded some then gave a weak shrug of his shoulders. His eyes clamped tight, then relaxed.

"Look, you get better, then we're gonna go find those bastards and really show them up."

"Steve, not here." I demanded in a low undertone. He looked at me and gave a slight nod. He thought a moment then broke out in a big grin.

"Hey, here's something to think about. Darry's got a thing for your nurse!"

Great. I'd wait until he got better, _then_ I'd hurt him. At least he had the courtesy to not yell it. Soda's eyes looked at me and back to Steve's, then a very visible grin also spread on his face.

"Steve, I'm going to pound you. I told you, she's taken already so shut the hell up." I threatened softly. I guess Soda tried to laugh, cause next thing I knew, it looked like he was choking. Alarms went off everywhere. Michelle came back in.

"Alright, no getting my patient all riled up. Sodapop, relax and try to breathe normal. Darry, time to take your third cousin's brother's son - or whatever cockamamie relation you gave him - back to his room. Your three minutes are up."

"C'mon you troublemaker. Soda, I'll be back in a bit." Soda nodded, the grin still present. The Inhalation Therapist, Mark, was coming in anyway... a needle in hand.

Steve sat in the wheelchair and was silent for most of the ride back. Then he looked up at me. "He _is_ gonna be alright, ain't he?"

"In time, Steve. They said he'd be fine."

I took Steve back to his room, his nurse giving me a nasty look with her hands squarely on her hips when I got him back to his room and helped him back into bed. As my side gave an unfriendly twinge, I'd just realized how long it had been since I'd had any of my own pills. I waited until his nurse left, then swiped his drink and took two, hoping they'd work fast.

"Crap, Darry, how bad were _you_ hurt?"

I winced. "It's not bad. Not like you two. Cracked ribs and a busted hand. Lost my footing and fell into the mechanics pit. I wasn't expecting the sudden fall and landed on my hand wrong, then bounced onto my side I guess. It happened too fast and that's the only thing I can think of. It was sort of a good thing. That's where I found Soda - in the pit. I'd never have gone there otherwise, and I sure couldn't see a damn thing through all that smoke."

"How much work you gonna lose?"

I shook my head. "Not much. I go back in a couple more days. I can still use my right hand. I'll be slower than usual, but I'll get the work done. I'll _have_ to. Soda's going to be out of working shape for a long while. His boss better not let him go. If that rebar hadn't been sticking up in the mechanic's pit, he'd have avoided losing part of his lung."

Steve lay back, speechless and a shade paler.

"Don't worry about it. The important thing is that both you and Soda are going to be fine. Anything else, we'll deal with. Just like we always do."

Steve grinned. "Yep. Maybe it's time for Two-Bit to go earn his keep around here."

I looked at him, grinning too. "Yeah, that's something even I'd like to see."

XXX

Tulsa General loomed ahead. I reached up and pulled the cord, the buzzer going off at the front and the driver pulling up to the curb. The doors opened and I hopped out, my books slipping and falling to the ground as I exited the bus. I grumbled about it, hastily picking them up and trying to double time it over to the hospital entrance.

The elevator seemed to take forever. Finally, the doors slid open and I got out. The big "ICU" sign pointing me to the right. I found Darry sipping something from a can as I came over.

"What are you doing here? Is he okay? What happened?"

"Pony, hold on, kiddo. Nothings wrong. They're taking the breathing tube out is all. Hopefully, he'll be able to talk again."

"He will? That's great!" I needed to hear his voice again.

"What is that all over your shirt?"

I looked down, seeing the red spots that stood out against my light green pullover.

"Nothing. I had a bloody nose earlier. How long before we can go in?"

"A while, and what do you mean you had a bloody nose? Were you in another fight?"

"No, I wasn't in a fight. Jeeze, Darry, is that all you think I do these days? Get in fights?"

"Well, so far, kiddo, your record ain't all that great. If I remember correctly, you've been in a fight during a fire drill and another in an alley."

"The alley fight wasn't at school, so it doesn't count." I corrected.

Darry sat on a chair arm, trying to glare at me but he was too tired to put up the effort.

"It counts, Ponyboy. They all count. What happened? Or are you trying to tell me your nose just spontaneously sprung a leak?"

I thought about it. Sounded plausible. I nodded. "Yep, that's what happened."

He shook his head.

"Darry?" Some cute nurse with almost shoulder length, dirty blond hair was looking at him. He turned.

"How is he?"

She opened the door wider. "It's out. He's able to talk some, but I must warn you, his throat is extremely raw and sore. I wouldn't recommend trying to chat a lot right now, he still needs plenty of rest."

"Got that, Ponyboy. No chatting."

I nodded.

"Now _this_ one I can see the resemblance in!" She was looking at me and smiling, I had no idea what she was talking about, but felt my cheeks go red as I shrugged my shoulders and followed along.

"Yep, this is the youngest one. My other brother, Ponyboy."

Further introductions weren't given as we had gotten to Soda's beside, and I wasn't paying either of them any attention anymore. Soda was wearing a mask that spouted off a cold mist over his face - much like a dragon snorting. I would have laughed but I was too worried. At least he was sitting up against the pillows, looking worn out but smiling some. He also wasn't tied down anymore. I was glad, that had bugged me.

"Hey, Darry, Ponyboy. How are ya?"

I smiled at the sound, but the nurse really didn't describe it well. His voice was so raw I didn't recognize it. It sounded like sandpaper. More a shrill husky whisper than a true voice. It hurt to hear. It had to hurt to use.

"Don't talk, Soda. Just relax."

Some other guy in the room leaned over to shake Darry's hand. He had been pushing the breathing machine out of the way, giving us a bit more room. "This," he said, indicating the mask Soda was wearing, "just gives him cool moist air to breathe in, helping relax his vocal cords. It'll stay on an hour."

"Thanks, Mark. For everything you've done. I truly appreciate it. We all do."

"My pleasure. Sodapop, I'll come back to check on you soon."

"Thanks." Soda scraped out. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard.

He looked better. It seemed over half the tubes that were in him yesterday were gone now. Yesterday, I hadn't been convinced he was going to live. He looked totally better now, except for that long cream colored tubing that bubbled on the floor by the bed that I was very careful not to step on. I looked around the room. In addition to the bubbling bottles, there were still three IV's bottles floating above him, he was still connected to machines on either side of him, and monitors still beeped with every beat of his heart.

"Pone, c'mere." Soda called. I came closer, suddenly unsure of everything. He patted my hand, tugging me down even more. I sat by him on his bed. "I'm alright. Really. I'm gonna be fine."

I nodded, feeling the warm fluid suddenly cascade down my nose again. I'd already changed my shirt at school, my other one catching the red drips that fell during my next -to- last class. I hopped off the bed, wrenching free of Soda's weak grasp and pulled some tissues out of a box on a nearly table, sitting down as I tilted my head back. Darry was at my side in an instant.

"Pony? Let me see. _Pone_, move your hand and let me see!"

"It's nothing, Darry. Really. Just a nosebleed."

His eyes showed amped up concern. I tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn't budge.

"Darry,_ please_. You go making this more than a bloody nose and it's only going to stress Soda out. Now, for the love of everything you value in life, just let it go!" I hissed. Soda'd been watching, but I knew he couldn't hear me. Darry's eyes went from me to Soda, and I could tell he conceded to my request.

I got up and went back to Soda's side. "I better go stop the flood before they think you sprang a leak or something." He nodded and I turned to leave, cursing myself for this.

XXX

"What's wrong with him?" Soda croaked out.

"I don't really know." At least I was honest. I could tell Soda didn't believe me.

"Dar, is he_ sick_? Don't hide...."

"I ain't hiding nothing from you. I really don't know what's going on with him right now. He says it's just a nosebleed. He wasn't in another fight, so maybe that's all it is. Don't worry, Soda. I'll keep my eye on him." _Great, just what I needed, something new to worry over. _

Soda sank back against the pillows and nodded. He rested a few moments then turned back to look at me.

"Does he know? Did you tell him?"

I searched his face. "About what?"

"The draft...."

"No." I cut him off. "I haven't, and I won't. This ain't really the time or place for you to worry about it anyway. You're not going and that's that. I spoke with the doc, he wrote a letter," I pulled out the folded piece of paper and tapped it with my finger, unfolding it to read a part of it to him. "... saying you had been, quote, 'aggrievedly injured and sustained multiple wounds that required the temporary use of life support. Mr. Sodapop Curtis has lost a portion of his lung that will require many months of adjustment and rehabilitation on his part to return to a level of activity near his previous state.' There's more, but it all means the same." I folded it up and put it back in my pocket.

Soda looked devastated. "Hey, c'mon buddy. It just means you can't go off and play Army any time soon. You're gonna recover nicely."

He looked at me as if he didn't believe me. "How long am I gonna be like this?" He tried to lift his arms with purposeful motion, but they fell limp to the bed.

"You're gonna get your strength back, little by little."

Michelle walked back in. "Everything okay, Sodapop?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Michelle, how long do you think it'll take before he'll be back to doing stuff? Like driving and working and all?"

She thought about it. "You should be up and moving again in a week, once that tube is pulled. Then after your ribs heal, you should be steadily getting better each day. However, the doctor usually won't release you to work again for even longer, and you'll need to do some pulmonary rehabilitation to build up your endurance. What kind of work do you do?"

"Mechanic," he answered.

She scrunched her eyes. "Drat, I'm sorry, Sodapop. I should have remembered. Well, as long as you don't go lifting, moving or doing anything very torquing to your body, perhaps a month or two. Of course, that's all up to the doctor."

"Really? A month or_ two_?" A month I could handle, two would be harder. I would have to find out about this rehabilitation too, but that would wait for now as Pony slinked back in and returned to Soda's side just then. I watched them carefully, Soda grinned and Pony smiled back, but his eyes wouldn't give up that worried look.

"It's up to the doctor. Don't put all your eggs in a basket yet, but we'll see what happens. Soda, is your breathing okay?"

"Yes, thanks."

"Good. Call me if you need me." Michelle slipped back out of the room again.

"You okay, Pone?"

"Yeah, Just a nosebleed. Nothing to worry about. How are you doing? You in pain?"

"It's okay. If anything, my rump hurts from sitting on it for so long."

Pony laughed. I smiled. Soda did know how to work him, better than I did.

"I'm gonna be fine, kiddo. Promise, swear, cross my heart and all that jazz. Now stop worrying yourself sick over me." Soda patted Pony's knee, too weak to raise his hand higher.

"Only if you stop talking and rest that voice." Pony grinned, some relief finally showing up.

"Deal."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	30. Bubbles

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 30

**Bubbles**

XXX

The room was small, made even smaller by the giant posters hanging on the wall. Stuff like "Support Your Countrymen!" and "Be All You Can Be!" screamed their silent barrage on the poor saps who came here looking for a new start. That wasn't why I was here, but I still felt bad for them. The system had failed most of them, leaving this their only option.

Across the entryway was a counter, a big guy standing there with a pen in one hand and a ledger under it. Behind him were three other men at desks, all busy typing.

"Yes Sir! What can I do for you, Sir?"

The Army guy was barking at me like I was a hundred feet away. Loud. Made ears ring. I stood only across the counter from him, why he felt he needed to shout was beyond me. Then again, maybe some mortar had gone off and now he was hard of hearing. I had to admit, this guy intimidated me. I wasn't easily spooked by anyone... but this guy, well, he was in a league all his own. Not only was he a bit taller than I was, he also looked like a solid brick of muscle. I was that, too, but he... well he wore it better. The pea green fatigues only accented it. If he were a hood wanting to fight, I think I would have met my match. Hell, I might even have lost.

"I'm here for Sodapop Curtis...." I started. Big Guy cut me off.

"We don't take any replacements, but we will take volunteers! Those who were drafted have a _duty_ to serve. It's an _honor_ to serve your country. Where is he, we'll make a man out of him!"

"Yeah, well that 'man' is lying in a hospital bed at Tulsa General...." He did it again.

"Trying to dodge the draft by claiming an illness, is he? He's not the first, won't be the last. What happened, did he shoot himself in the foot? Claiming to be mentally incompetent?"

I was suddenly thinking the same about the big guy here, but I remembered he could probably shoot me. I handed him the letter from the doctor, a notarized copy quietly left back at home.

"No, more like - nearly killed in a gas station explosion last week. That 'man' nearly died, was on life support for a few days and lost part of his lung, busted some ribs and tore up his leg. His doctor said he's not fit for duty."

"Well, at least it's something original for a change. Who are you?" Big Man's sarcastic disdain was grating on my nerves.

"Darrel Curtis, older brother."

"I see. So, how bout it? Want to come join the Army, help defeat communism in a far off country?"

I was amazed. He _actually_ asked that with a straight face. I think he was serious!

"No, but thanks. I've already got my hands full defeating an intelligence deficit on the East Side. So, who do I have to talk to to get Sodapop off the 'report for duty' register?"

"Sgt. Banner! Front and Center!" Big Guy yelled over his shoulder and some other guy dressed in the same outfit came over. He was smaller, but just as built.

"Yes sir?"

Big Guy handed the paper to him. "I'm sending you on a recon mission. Go to Tulsa General and eyeball this..." he looked at the paper, "...Sodapop Curtis, see what the condition is and report back."

"Roger that, Sir."

The Sergeant grabbed his hat, slapped it on his head and left.

"Thank you, Mr. Curtis. If Sgt. Banner finds ..." he looked at the paper again, "...Sodapop Curtis ineligible to serve, he'll receive some papers in the mail. If he is found able to serve at a future date after he recovers, a new report date will be made and we'll mail that too. Either way, keep watching the mail!"

Uh huh. I was beginning to understand better _now_ why we were losing the war over there. I think this guy had sucked in a little too much napalm.

"Thanks."

"Yes Sir! Thank you!"

I left the office, so glad this was not in any Curtis future. Then a chill ran down my spine. If Pony ever volunteered for this.... Christ! I hoped this insanity would blow over in the next three years before Pony turned eighteen. He was going to college and would have a long fulfilling life. That was that.

XXX

"_So, how's your brother doing?"_

"_Wasn't he one of the guys blown up in the fire?"_

"_I heard the beam went right through him! That there was blood and guts everywhere!"_

Talk had been going on all week through the school, every day it got worse and worse with more vivid descriptions of carnage that hadn't happened to my brother. I wished I could find the people doing it and make them stop, because the only ones seeing Soda were me, Darry, Two-Bit and Steve.

I knew better than to think any Grease was spreading the rumors. The guys I hung with outside the gang wouldn't do this, and I knew better to even consider Two-Bit. Still, it was getting to me. I wasn't sleeping, I couldn't eat very well, and my mind refused to concentrate on any schoolwork. I just wanted Soda home.

I looked down at my hand where my chin had been resting for a bit while Mrs. Hollowell rambled on about Hitler and Axis countries. Red. Blood red. _Blood_. Damn, stupid nose! I felt another drip break free and land on my notebook this time. I pressed the cuff of my sleeve against my nose and prayed Mrs. Hollowell would be so involved with the the Battle of the Bulge that she wouldn't look. I was lucky, She never did. The bell rang and I raced out to the boy's room, trying to wash the now dried blood off my face.

"Christ, Ponyboy, _now_ what's happened to you?"

"Damn, Two-Bit, is there a homing device planted on me or something? Sometimes I don't _want _to be followed, ya dig?" I felt myself shaking, so many emotions building up in me.

He stopped, sizing me up. Some other kid came in right then, already unzipping in an obvious urgent need for the urinal, but Two-Bit swung his arm out, stopping him.

"The office is closed. Find another place." Two-Bit stated. The kid looked flabbergasted.

"But..." he weakly protested, saw how determined Two-Bit's eyes were, zipped his fly and left.

"That really wasn't necessary. He's a freshman, probably wet his pants by now."

"He ain't bleeding, you are. What's wrong, Ponyboy? Talk to me. Damn it, you ain't hiding it real well. What's going on in that head of yours?"

My chest hurt, like I was in a vise getting squeezed tighter and tighter with every beat of my heart. "Get out, Two-Bit. Leave me alone for a while. Go. _Please._ Go."

I was smothering under a need to scream. My hands were shaking and I could feel it building in me, my fists already starting to pound on the filthy white sink basin. I was trapped here, Two-Bit blocking the doorway out. I tried to hide my anger, smother it back down - but had failed, and with no other outlet around, I let it out by smashing my fist into one of the already broken mirrors over the row of sinks. I didn't think to do it, either ... it just happened. I punched it twice more before stopping, the concentrically broken circles reflected my face over fifty times, each one unrecognizable. Two-Bit even stepped back, either in shock or amazement. I knew better to think he did so in fear. He could take me easily, we both knew that.

I could feel his eyes on me as I went back to gripping the sink, watching fresh drops of red hit the dirty porcelain. I didn't bother trying to stop them, either. He was sizing me up. "Soda's gonna be fine, Ponyboy. You know that." His tone was serious, a rarity for Two-Bit.

I nodded my head. Fresh blood now ran down over my lips. I finally used my sleeve, my feet planted and refusing to move.

"Darry's gonna be fine too."

"I know. I know _I know__** I know**_! Everyone's gonna be fine!"

He took a step toward me and my feet finally moved, _backwards;_ away from his advancing step. He eyed me with serious concern, and even I didn't have an explanation for it. I knew he wouldn't hurt me; I just didn't want to be touched. I wanted to be left alone!

"What _is _it, Pony? What can I do?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you _can_ do. _Nothing._...." He rushed me, holding my arms tightly, too tightly, forcing me to look at him as I wrenched unsuccessfully against his grip.

"Christ, kid. You're still in shock. I'm taking you home. C'mon."

I didn't remember leaving school grounds. I didn't remember the ride home. Suddenly I was at my house, Two-Bit telling me to go change my clothes into whatever I wore to bed then get there, not to move or he'd actually whallop me for it. Then I heard him on the phone in the kitchen. Whoever he was talking to hung up fast, cause he wasn't on the phone with them long. As I settled into my bed, he came in with a wet washcloth and pressed it against my head.

"I ain't crazy, ya know." I said finally. I had a feeling Two-Bit thought I'd gone off the deep end.

"Nope, you ain't crazy. Rest, kid. Just rest."

XXX

"What happened?"

"I ain't no doc, but he looks like he's in shock. Considering the amount of blood I found on him, his schnoz is giving him a serious problem."

"Again?" I looked at Two-Bit and then at the door that led to his room.

"I sort of snatched him from school. You might get a call about that later. Sorry."

"That's fine, just another thing to heap on the growing pile of shit. You did the right thing. Thanks."

*

The room was silent but he wasn't asleep. He was laying on his side staring at the opposite wall, a blank look on his face.

"Pony?"

"I ain't sleeping." His tired voice called out. I closed the door behind me.

"How ya feeling?" I came over and felt his forehead. He wasn't warm, which was good.

"Are we gonna lose him?"

That caught me off guard a bit. I thought the worst was over when they'd pulled the breathing tube yesterday. I just assumed Pony understood it too.

"No, Heavens no. Soda's getting better each day. Today he ate some, if you wanna call what they fed him food. Still, it's something. I'd take you to see him, but frankly.... I don't know."

I sighed, looking at him laying there so still. Carefully, I smoothed his eyebrows, one of our mother's old tricks from so long ago, and was surprised he didn't flinch at my touch. He rarely let me touch him like this.

"I shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have made you go back to school so soon. You need more rest, a little more time. You ain't looking so hot … frankly, you're worrying me, buddy."

"Sorry. I just miss him. I'll be okay." Pony softly answered back some seconds later.

"I miss him too, but he's gonna come home. He just has to get better first, is all."

I watched him as he shut his eyes tight, his chin quivering for the slightest of moments before the tough exterior returned. I hated it. The one thing he had to be was the one thing I didn't want him to be – tough. So tough, he could block his own emotions. I didn't want him to block them around me. Around others it was necessary, sure. You can't survive here being soft like that; but here in the privacy of his own room, he shouldn't have to hide behind that facade. It simply wasn't Ponyboyish to do that. I got up to leave, intending for him to rest.

"Darry?"

"Yeah Pone?"

"Will you... I mean, if you have time.... could you …. stay... with me?"

"Sure. Of course I will." I went to sit back down but I noticed how he moved some, leaving enough room on the bed. I suddenly understood. I eased my sore side down and carefully put my arm over him. I felt him curl into me like a kitten. We were silent for a while. His fingers braided into mine, exceedingly careful of the cast on my hand. "Soda's gonna be fine, Pone. You have to trust me on that." I whispered.

"I do. I'm just really tired."

"Go to sleep." His head nodded against my chest, and that was the last bit of conversation for several hours.

XXX

"Hey, Soda. How ya doing buddy?"

Steve was in the doorway. Considering his clothes had _"Hospital Property"_ stamped all over them, I took it he hadn't been discharged yet.

"Well, I look like shit, feel like shit and," _sniff,_ "I think I smell like shit too. But it's great to be breathing with my own lungs now, or what's left of them. You?"

"Can't complain too much when I think of the many other ways this could've ended. Still, my side hurts. Took out my spleen. Doc said I could live okay without it. When you gonna stop bubbling and get out of here?" His chin pointed at my three bubbling bottles on the floor by my bed, the garden hose of a tube connecting them to me.

"You wanna see something neat? Watch this..." I took a deep breath and coughed as hard as I could. It hurt... but it was entertaining to watch the sudden rise of bubbles it produced. "Sort of like farting in a jar, without the smell."

Steve looked at me, chuckling a bit.

"You are a regular one man act, Soda. You should show that to the kid, he'd get a kick out of it." He looked around. "Speaking of which, where are they? Muscles go to get the kid from school?"

"I dunno. Two-Bit called a few hours ago, said Pony had another nosebleed and Darry went to check on him at home. Ain't no point in them coming here anyway, unless they want to watch me blow bubbles all night long."

"Yeah, that's a real crowd pleaser. Seriously though, when they taking that out?"

"Doc said maybe tomorrow or day after. Depends on my X-Ray in the morning. How bout you, when you breaking free of this joint?"

"Tomorrow, if I behave myself. I've done everything they want me to do – walk, eat, not have a fever, take a dump. You know, the most challenging things!"

I laughed, causing more bubbles. They fizzled down and Steve and I were silent.

"Has the boss called to check on you?" I tried to keep the hope out of my voice.

He nodded his head. "Yeah, yesterday. Said he's been too busy with the inspectors and shit to come out. Nice to know he cares, huh?"

"I just hope he cares enough to keep us on the payroll. Blowing up the station wasn't our fault. Well, if nothing else, at least we ain't got no more weekends at 21."

He chuckled. "Yeah, wonderful," he answered dryly. "That's a great consolation to having our insides maimed."

I had nothing to say to that. I guess he didn't either.

"You need anything?" he asked as he stood up more. I could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. He was hurting and had to go lay down.

"I heard you had some new mag's. If you're done with them, bring one down on your next trip."

"Will do, Soda. Not a problem. I gotta cut out, but I'll be back later."

He bopped knuckles with me and left, one hand holding his side. Once he was gone, I pushed my button and the nurse came in a moment later.

"Can I get a pain pill?" My own side was hurting. I guess I blew too many bubbles.

She looked at my clipboard and her watch then nodded. "I'll be right back with it." A bit later, she returned, cup of water in one hand, pill in the other. I washed it down and thanked her, watching her leave. She wasn't like my other nurse from yesterday, this one stayed more distant, not as sociable. I guess Nurse Ross was off as I hadn't seen her. Probably explains Darry's unusual absence too. While waiting for the pill to work, I realized Steve's statement was probably right, Darry did like her. Too bad she wasn't available. He needed a distraction from reality. It made me grin. That or the pill was taking over. I let it pull me down, and went to sleep.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

Please Pardon Typos, family issues prevent me from proofing this carefully. Calla


	31. Grandma's Mementos

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 31

**Grandma's Memento**s

XXX

I thought I was dreaming, having a nightmare of some sort when I opened my eyes. A soldier was looking down at me, nearly boring holes in me with the intensity of his gaze. What kinda drugs was I on? Hell, had I already gone to Nam and been shot?

"Who...?" I stuttered, pressing myself back into the bed in an effort to get away. I noticed then that my sheets had been pulled down some and my gown had been pushed back, my bruised and busted stitched up side with the tube sticking out of me exposed to him and anyone around who cared to take a gander, and my bandaged knee uncovered as well. Granted, the family jewels were covered, and I had a better than decent build so I wasn't ashamed of my body, but it wasn't his business to do this. I snatched the sheets and pulled them back while nearly yelling an obscenity at him, whoever he was. My nurse, a different one from before who was much older and more cantankerous, was barreling in my doorway half a second later.

"Checking his chart is one thing, but I _said _you weren't to bother my patient! I wouldn't care if the President himself sent you! Mr. Curtis, are you okay?" She asked, checking my tubes and IV's, making sure nothing had been messed with.

I glared at the soldier while nodding. "Yes ma'am. I … I think so." Honestly, I wasn't feeling all that great, but hell, who would with everything I'd been through.

She was staring at a monitor, then put the oxygen cannula back under my nose. I hated it, the prongs irritated my upper lip and dried out my nose.

"Sorry, Mr. Sodapop, but your oxygen levels have fallen again. I'll repeat the levels again in an hour. If he bothers you _anymore_," she turned to glare at him while propping me up in the bed some, "don't hesitate to call. I'll be close by."

"Thanks."

She left, the soldier waited until she was gone.

"I'm Sergeant Banner, of the Tulsa MEPS station. I was sent here by my Master Sergeant to see you. It seems someone..."

"Hold on. What? Meps? Who's that? I don't... "

The soldier looked at me, cocked his head some and blinked.

"Sorry. I keep forgetting to keep 'military speak' simple, but I've been doing this too many years. I'm a Medic from the MEPS office, the **M**ilitary **E**ntrance **P**rocessing **S**tation, out of Tulsa."

I nodded, he swallowed and continued.

"Seems a member of your family brought a letter in to our office saying you had been injured and wouldn't be a qualified inductee despite your draft notice. As I'm sure you can guess, having letters such as this isn't new to the Army. My Master Sergeant, my _supervisor_, essentially; sent me to check you out, to see if it's legitimate or not. You're not a special case, we do this for everyone who has one of these letters. However, you're the first one to actually check out. I read your chart. Lobectomy, Hemopneumothorax, Chest tube and rib fractures. Impressive, and I hadn't gotten to your leg yet. May I inquire as to what happened?"

I had no idea what he'd just said. A whole bunch of medical bippity boppity boo that meant I was screwed. At least, that's what it felt like. "The gas station I was working at blew up. Exploded. Boom. I just happened to be in it at the time." I wasn't sure just how much I trusted this guy, or how much to tell him. I watched him warily.

"I see. Well, according to your chart, you lost part of your lung. That's an automatic out. It's a shame, we could have used a strong man like yourself. Here's my card," he handed me a business card with his name and office number on the back. "If you want to appeal to the MEPS board for re-evaluation and entrance processing with a medical waiver, just give me a call. Nice meeting you, Mr. Curtis. Hope you feel better soon."

He turned to leave, but I called out to him. "Sergeant Banner?" He turned around.

"Yes?"

"Is this _it _then? No drafting, no calls to my house, no trouble for not showing up at the military processing place? I don't want my family destroyed any worse than they already are."

"No, Mr. Curtis. I have all the documentation I need to show you aren't physically qualified for the Army."

"I have your word?"

He gave a faint smile. I wondered if someones word means anything to the military.

"Yes, you have my word. I'll give the documentation to my Master Sergeant today, stamped 4-F meaning you're not physically qualified, and you'll be released. You'll get a letter for your own records in the mail in a week or so. If you have any problems, call me. My number's on the card I gave you."

A monitor next to me beeped with an alarm. I looked at it. By now, I had become so bored I was getting familiar with what each of the many spiky lines meant. This one was upset because my oxygen levels were still too low again, despite the cannula shoved against my nose. I could feel it too, as if I were exhausted from a run I hadn't taken. I sank back into the bed, worn out and sweaty.

"Get some rest, Mr. Curtis...." he started, but my nurse came in, looking mad.

"Sir, I've been as tolerant as I could be, but you'll have to leave now. Mr. Curtis is being stressed far too much by your visit, and has to rest." She may be a small woman compared to him, but she was certainly a spitfire too. He nodded and left.

"Try to rest, Sodapop," she urged a little more gently as she reached behind me and fiddled with something, the increased purge of oxygen stuffing my nose at the same time. Then she injected something in my IV tubing going straight into me. The sensation felt like a cold snake sliding up my arm, followed by a burning afterward. I didn't have time to ask what she'd done. The monitor stopped beeping, and I relaxed back to sleep.

XXX

"Hey, Pepsi."

Darry was there, standing at the side of my bed looking down at me. Something was different, but I didn't know what. I felt so tired; all stiff and achy. And hot. Very hot.

"What's happened to me now? What's wrong?" Even that took effort.

"You spiked a fever. They think you've been working yourself up too much, had too much excitement around you lately. Maybe tore a stitch inside you, but they're not certain yet. They took some of your blood to the lab, the results indicated an infection. The X-ray's weren't better either, so the tube stays in a while longer." He took a washcloth from the table, wet it in the nearby sink and wiped my face with it. It helped, but only a little. Not that I had any intention to, but I had no energy to protest the gesture. I hated feeling this weak. "The doc decided against opening you up again, deciding to just give you stronger antibiotics and watch you closer."

"You went to the recruiters office, didn't you?" I mumbled.

He nodded. "They said they were going to send someone to check out your story. I saw the military card on the table, I guess I missed them being here, busy with Pony. Sorry about that. He wasn't rough with you, was he?"

"No. You didn't tell him, did you?"

"Tell _who,_ _what?_"

"Po... Ponyboy. The notice... the draft notice. You didn't...." I felt so out of it, not even able to talk coherently.

He shuffled his feet and bent down closer to me. "No, Pepsi, I didn't. I told you I wouldn't, and I haven't. Stop worrying about that, it's over. Let it go, put it behind you. You just work on getting better."

I nodded, not remembering the conversation Darry was talking about, but not wanting to start up an argument that I had no energy to fight either. "What time is it?"

"Nearly four in the afternoon. Pony'll be here soon. I won't let him stay long, you're not in any shape for too much stress, neither is he."

I slightly shook my head. "You forgot, he has practice. He'll be late. How's he doing? His nose still bleeding?"

Darry was looking at me funny. "Soda, today's Thursday. You slept through Wednesday. He had track _yesterday, _coach made him stay and run some, but mostly he just sat out. And he's fine. He's still getting a few nosebleeds, but I'm pretty sure it's due to him stressing himself out."

I was stunned. "I lost a day?" Darry nodded. That took me a minute to get over. Then what Darry'd said got through. "Pony's stressed? Why? What's going on with him?" I wanted to sit up, clear the fog of confusion that had seemed to settle around me.

"Lay still, Sodapop. Pony's stressing over you, you're stressing over him. The both of you need to knock that off." He wiped my face again, rinsed the cloth and slid it behind my neck. The cool dampness felt good. I looked at him a moment and lay back, exhausted.

"Tell him I'm sorry." I mumbled.

"Sorry for what, little buddy?"

"For everything. Just..." I closed my eyes, too tired for conversation anymore. ".... for damn near everything."

XXX

The days passed in a painful, sleepless blur. How I functioned, I didn't know. I was up to the hospital every day with Soda either after getting Pony off to school or on my way home after work. When I went back to work, it was slower than usual with the cast, but steady; giving my boss no reason to consider letting me go. Once back home after a long day, I had to deal with home issues - the mounting bills, trying to coax Pony to eat (I've accepted the fact that any kind of stress kills his appetite), and dealing with the now-constant nightly terrors that gripped my youngest brother.

Pony was back to having nightmares every night again, crying in his sleep. I'd pull him back to the here and now from the disorientation the nightmares left him in. He'd look around for Soda, remembering eventually that Soda wasn't here, which would cycle his emotional roller coaster again. The pain, hurt and frustration he was going through was evident, even though in the light of day, he said nothing.

The first two nights after I'd finally woken him up, he'd insisted he was fine and shooed me out of his room. Judging by the bleakness in his face and hollowness under his eyes the mornings following those restless nights, I was pretty sure he wasn't sleeping. I had no choice, I _had_ to sleep. No matter what, I still had to work. I was the only one bringing in a check now, and bills don't stop just cause someone gets hurt.

The third night, a howling wind tipped the scales on what Pony could and could not take. It wasn't a tornado – I'd have recognized the train-like scream those winds created, and that wasn't what I'd heard. It sounded more like just one heck of a strong wind, strong enough that one of the ladders I had outside leaning against the house had fallen over. I sat up with a start, scrubbed the sleep from my eyes and started to the hallway meaning to go to Pony's room - only to find it already occupied. It startled me to realize someone was just standing there in the dark, until I made out who the slim figure was.

"Pone? What's wrong?" It was nearly midnight but he was silently standing in the middle of the hallway in his stocking feet, arms crossed over his shirted chest, shivering. "Ponyboy?"

"Sorry, I just … can't sleep."

His expression said volumes more. Looking around, I remembered this was the spot Soda had mentioned he'd found Pony in after the tornado had come through last summer. I pulled him to me and surprisingly, he came without a fight. His arms were so cold. I could only wonder how long he'd been standing out here. Another strong burst of wind felled another ladder and I felt him cringe in my arms as the metal clanged and clattered outside.

"It's just wind, Pone. No big deal. You wanna go back to bed?" He shook his head, twining his fingers into my shirt. I sighed. "C'mon. I'm tired and we both need some sleep." I led him back to my room and scrunched under my still- warm blankets, lifting them up for Pony to crawl under as well "Lay down. Ain't you cold, kiddo?"

"Yeah, a little."

He bent his legs to curl up, and as he did so the sensation of two blocks of frozen ice touched my bare legs. I jerked my legs away instantly. "One word, Pone. Socks. Wear them." I gently chastised as I wrapped the covers over him.

"I will, tomorrow." I heard him yawn as he settled on his side next to me. He shuddered as the warmth spread over him and went to sleep. I watched him sleep for a moment then closed my own eyes too.

XXX

"Hey, Darry!" I turned, looking for the voice as I entered the ICU. It had been a week now, Soda was doing better. Michelle was beaming at me from behind the nurses desk. Once again, I had to fight back the disappointment I felt by seeing that small band of gold around her finger.

"I'll uh, go on in to see Soda." Pony mumbled, seeing Michelle coming toward us.

"Yeah, go ahead, I won't be far behind."

Pony nodded and made his way into Soda's room. Michelle was near me now, smiling and leaning over the counter to talk.

"Soda's chest tube came out this morning. Dr. Maerde pulled it about an hour ago. I tried to call you but there was no answer at your house. Sorry."

"How's he doing?"

"Fine. He's doing much better and will be going upstairs soon. The infection seems to have cleared, he's eating solids again and all his systems are working as they should. I think he's going to do fine, just like I told you. He's a strong young man."

"Any idea how long he'll be up there?"

"Physical therapy will get him up and walking again, he'll have a bit of recovery still with everything, but I don't think he'll be here much longer. It's a shame, though."

I looked at her, concerned. "Why?"

She looked at me with a shy smile. "I guess I'm just going to miss seeing my favorite patient, is all."

Her eyes were fascinating. Light brown, but not dull and flat. Her eyes were alive, dancing almost. Captivating. I suddenly realized I was staring at them, and felt like a silly teenager again. A silly teenager with a crush on a spoken-for woman. I rocked on my heels, scratching my head to try to compose my thoughts. "You've been one heck of a great nurse. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know my brother's been cared for so well here. I wish I could do something to show my appreciation, but there's no gift big enough to say thanks for keeping him alive. My brothers are all I've got now."

She blushed, looking down. "It's our pleasure, Darry. Sodapop has a wonderful family, that's what makes the difference. Between you, your youngest brother, and the two 'brothers cousins nephews' that keep showing up, he's had a lot of support. I think he'll do fine. Come down and see me, let me know how he's doing. I'd love to hear about his post- hospital recovery, or um, well, anything."

"You sure about that?" I asked softly. Talk can ruin a reputation faster than action, and I was pretty sure no husband or fiancé would appreciate another guy just hanging around.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" She questioned, looking unsure.

Now I wasn't sure how to answer without looking like an idiot.

"I don't think it would be proper for me to hang around. Once Soda leaves here... I mean, there wouldn't be a real reason... your co-workers might think..... I mean.... "

She looked at me as if I were a lunatic.

"Darry? What's the problem? I _like_ talking to you..."

"You're husband may have a problem with it, is all."

She smiled and lowered her voice. "I'm not married, Darry. What gave you that idea?"

I jutted my chin out at her ring. "That."

She looked at it and blushed. "This? It's my grandmother's ring. Keeps the guys from pestering me." She suddenly stopped and rolled her eyes, her face glowing a shade of crimson. "I guess it was working _too_ well. I promise, I'm not hiding any husbands, boyfriends or any other sort of companions. I live alone, well... I do have a cat."

I smiled. "Really?"

She giggled softly. "Really."

XXX

"Pony, let him alone. He likes her, he don't need you eavesdropping in."

I moved from the doorway, turning my attention back to Soda from watching Darry yammering on with his nurse. He was sitting up in bed wearing a pair of sweatpants, a hospital gown and his robe from home that I guessed Darry had brought him. His few belongings lay in a paper bag at he foot of the bed. They were moving him upstairs in a few minutes. He held out his hand, motioning me to come over. I sat next to him.

"Ponyboy Michael. Lordy, bro... what have you been up to this last week? Anything good?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to admit being so scared that in his absence I'd actually gone to Darry for comfort. Not even Soda's empty bed gave me peace enough to close my eyes at night. I didn't want to tell him that my nosebleeds were still happening, albeit less frequently. And I also didn't want to admit I wasn't eating much again. It wouldn't stay down and my throat was beginning to burn from all the puking, so I just ate when I thought my stomach would take it.

"How was Hollis? You get to ride Casper a lot?" he pressed.

I smiled. Hollis seemed so long ago, I'd just about forgotten. "It was good. Went to the fair after working on the ranch that morning."

"Yeah? How was that?"

I smiled, remembering my time with Linda more than the fair. "Good."

I realized he was looking at me humorously. "What?" I asked, suddenly feeling warm.

"_Why_ are you turning red?" He asked with an air of knowing in his tone. I shrugged, but couldn't get rid of my grin.

"You sly dog. You saw Linda again, didn't you?" When I didn't answer, he nudged me. I had to nod. He sighed, tossing an arm over my shoulder. "Darry was bugged about that. I figured you'd see her though. So, did ya kiss?"

"Soda!" I hissed in a low tone, whipping my head around to stare, surprised he'd ask.

"Well?" His eyes twinkled. I rolled my eyes but nodded, feeling my skin heat up from embarrassment even more. He laughed some. "Oh, Pony. Pony Pony Pony."

"Darry caught us. I don't think he's too happy about it. It wasn't anything but a kiss though."

Soda let go of my shoulder and leaned back some, eyes shut tight.

"You okay?" I asked, dropping my grin. He nodded.

"It just hurts a bit. Sore. No biggie. So, you and Linda huh? What's she like?"

I nodded. "She's fun. Does good in school but wasn't bumped up like me or nothing. Likes to ride her horse. Won't hold back what she's thinking, that's for sure. She'll come at you with both barrels loaded if you tick her off. She took my job at Mrs. Nixon's when I left last summer. Helps take care of Casper too."

"That's good. She seems good for you, smart and all."

"You ain't mad that I, uh, kissed her?"

He looked at me, grinned, but shook his head. "No, kiddo, I ain't. Just don't be moving too fast. Kissin's fine for now, but anything more might get a bit complicated. I don't think you're really ready for that anyway. 'Sides, you ain't known her that long."

"Darry sure didn't like it. And yet, he's still over there working it with your nurse."

Soda laughed, grabbing his side in the process. "Now come on, Pony. You're comparing Fords to Chevys. Darry's older than you are, a grown man. He hadn't had a real date since, well, since Mom and Dad were alive. It's past time for him to have something more to look forward to besides roofs and the warehouse. Not to mention we ain't all that appealing to come home to everyday. And as far as Darry not liking it, well, if it were up to him, you'd've been shipped off to a monastery the moment you and her talked."

I grumbled. "He only thinks of me as a little kid."

"He's just trying his best, Pone. It's hard seeing you growing up like this. To him, you're still his kid brother that he's got to make sure eats three meals a day, goes to school, brushes his teeth and goes to bed at a decent hour. It ain't easy knowing now you're shaving, your voice is deepening, and you've finally found girls interesting."

"You seem to be taking it better." I hadn't noticed my voice changing, my fingers carefully feeling my throat a moment.

"Well, it ain't easy, but it's time. You ain't a kid, that's for sure. But you'll always be my kid brother." He bumped me with his shoulder, a slight shove. I grinned.

"Sodapop, ready to go upstairs?" Nurse Ross was in the doorway, Darry next to her.

"Yes ma'am," he said. I got up and moved out of the way as she brought in a wheelchair to take him up in. While Soda was getting in and Darry got his stuff, I looked at Darry, trying to see him differently, like how someone else would see him. Tall, broad shouldered, well built. His face, however, was showing age his body shouldn't have. Worry lines now creased his forehead. Soda was right, he was a grown man. He suddenly looked at me.

"What is it?"

I shook my head, breaking my gaze. "Nothing."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	32. Two Letters, One Discovery

Okay folks.... I've given you a massive chunk of the story so far, reviews would be appreciated. Thanks. Calla

**Autumn Leaves **

Chapter 32

**Two Letters, One Discovery**

XXX

His new room was smaller, the staff busier. They weren't gonna dote on Soda as much up here. It was the same floor Steve had been on, but he had already been discharged and was home, resting – we hoped. Darry was out signing papers, again. Seemed a mountain of paperwork went with everything in a hospital. Soda had eased back in his bed, his side still heavily bandaged even though that garden hose thingy was gone. His burns were mending well too. Pink blotches of new skin replaced the blistered areas on his arms and torso.

I sat next to him, fiddling with the overly- starched, chemically- cleaned blanket's frayed edge. He was staring at the cracked ceiling tiles.

"Ya know, Dad was already married to Mom when he was Darry's age?" Soda suddenly asked.

I thought about it, doing the math in my head before I nodded. "Was already born, even." I added.

"Yep, he was. He deserves a chance at some happiness, ya dig Pony?"

I nodded again. "Can I ask you something, Soda?"

"Sure, kiddo. What?"

"When are you gonna start seeing someone again?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Not really looking, to be honest."

"It's been over a year. Sandy burned you that bad?"

His voice was quiet. "Yeah, she did."

"Can I ask you something else?"

He gave a wary smile. "Sure."

"How do you know that baby wasn't yours?"

His forehead rumpled a bit. "I _don't_, to be honest. I've done the math a million times in my head, trying to remember each time we were, ya know... together, but I know I used stuff every time I was with her, that much I'm dead certain of. She said it wasn't mine, Pony. She cheated on me. That's all I know."

I kept fiddling with that string, my head a million miles away. Or, more like two-hundred.

"Not all girls are like that, Pone. Just cause I had a bad experience don't mean you will."

"I know."

"Besides, Linda ain't from around here, she's a different breed. These greasy Tulsa chicks are too narrow minded and self absorbed. Linda seems anything but."

I tried to hide it, but couldn't help the soft smile that appeared on my face. I had to agree. "She's going places, that much is certain."

"You're going places, too." He said with a tired grin, patting my knee.

I hoped so.

"Alright, Mr. Curtis, good afternoon to you. I'm Virginia, I'll be your nurse today...." Some nurse came in the room with a clipboard and a stethoscope making a bee line for Soda, and I slid off the bed, getting out of the way.

"Pony, c'mon. Soda, I'll be back to see you later." Darry called from the door.

"Bye, guys." Soda called out just as the nurse pulled the curtain with a commanding yank. Darry had his hand on my shoulder a moment, guiding me down the hallway.

"So what do we do now?" I asked, looking at Darry as we headed toward the truck.

"Same as we always do, kiddo. You have school, I have work. Life goes on."

XXX

Soda stayed in the hospital another three days before finally coming home.

XXX

"Yes, Mr. Hayes, I'm out of the hospital now. I was wondering about my job?" … "Well, the doc's still got me sitting around the house for another two months.... yeah... I mean yes, sir, two months. But if you can take me back sooner, that would be great." … "Oh, I understand." ... "No, sir, I really do understand. I'll be there, then. Two months from now. Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Well?" Steve asked, sitting at the table looking at me. I shook my head and grabbed a banana to eat.

"Nope. Boss said I could come back as soon as the doc releases me, but not a minute before. Shit, I guess I shouldn't complain, at least he _is_ giving both of us our jobs back. Eventually."

"Yup. I heard his insurance adjuster found the note you wrote about the leaking pump, and together him and his attorney knew Hayes was up shit creek without a paddle. It was either take us back, or risk getting sued for having faulty equipment and doing nothing about it. Paying our hospital bills had to hurt him, in the pocket at least."

"Yeah, that's one major worry off our backs. He didn't pay for Darry's medical care though. Said it wasn't his fault anyone would run into a burning building."

"Yeah, right. Stupid Darry, running in to save your life." Steve said caustically.

"Well, whatever, it's better than nothing. Still, not working until nearly Christmas ain't gonna help us any right now, either." I rubbed my side, popping one of my pain pills and downing a glass of water after it.

"Ah, don't worry about it. And it ain't like you're gonna be hanging around here, anyway. Doc's got you going to … what is that? Rehab? What's that mess for?"

"It ain't drug rehab, you dip shit. Pulmonary rehab. Doc wants me to go to the YMCA for swimming in their indoor pool for an hour or so a day. Said I could either go there or go all the way across town and swim in their hospital pool at a huge cost. Since Darry's already a member, it ain't gonna cost anything extra."

"Well, enjoy the time off. It's only for two months. I go back in two weeks."

I nodded, but knew Steve didn't know how bad our situation was. Debt and bills were something we lived with daily, but looking around my kitchen, it was getting rather obvious the effects of only one paycheck had around here. The kitchen was barer than usual, we were skimping down on everything. Darry and me were both leaving the milk and cereal alone for Pony to have before school, but even that was running out.

The dogs were barking outside, meaning the mailman was here. I got up, hobbling on my bum knee to get it. Since getting out of the hospital, I had taken a more concerted effort to get the mail first, waiting for the Army letter to arrive officially releasing me with that coveted 4-F stamp.

"Be right back," I told him. He held out the cane I was supposed to be using, but I waved it off. He stayed at the table, looking at something in one of my old magazines. The standard crap was in the box – bills that we were gonna have an even harder time paying, advertisements no one wanted to read, and finally! ...... the_ letter_. I held it a moment, not knowing what to do. The envelope was thicker. Was it an immediate demand for me to show up at the Tulsa MEPS station? Had Sergeant Banner lied, as I secretly expected him to? For a moment, I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I took a slow breath like the physical therapists told me to and waited, feeling my heart return to normal. I folded the envelope and shoved it in my back pocket, determined to wait until I was alone to read it.

"Man, you got anything else around here besides banana's, apples and oranges to eat? Where the hell is the meat?" Steve was gazing into our ice-box and shaking his head when I made it back inside. I looked too.

"There's half a jar of mayo, some ketchup and a dozen cans of Tuna in the pantry. It's protein, help yourself." I jokingly offered.

"I ain't a cat, Soda. Alright, that's it. Enough is enough. C'mon, let's go." He took me by the arms, carefully steering me toward the door, grabbing the cane on the way. If not for the fact both of us had stitched up sides, he'd probably have shoved me clear across the room. Still, I grabbed my jacket as we slid outside.

"Where're we going?"

"Out. I'm hungry, and an apple ain't gonna do it." He kicked a small pile of fall leaves out of the way as he stepped off the curb toward his car.

"Where'd you get the money?"

He smiled. "I know a great restaurant, and it ain't too far from here."

We piled in his car and headed out, the letter from the Army still in my pocket. I was desperate to read it while scared to death of what it may say. Still, as we roared down the road, I knew it would have to wait.

XXX

_Pat pat pat pat pat pat pat._ My feet flew along the red clay, the wind whistling around me as I streamed up the backstretch, arms pumping, sweat dropping away unnoticed. I leaned forward and crossed the white chalk line, my legs finally slowing as the coach read my time off the stopwatch. I panted hard, trying to catch my breath, hands on my hips and mouth wide open, pulling more air into my lungs. It was cold out, making my chest burn just that much more. This was the last unofficial practice until the official start of the training season for track, after Christmas break.

"Not bad, Ponyboy!" He checked his clipboard and wrote my time down. "Even with all your missed practices, you still managed to shave another three seconds off your time. I hope you can keep it up over the break."

I nodded. "I'll try, sir." My panting slowed, I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees to finally get a deep breath, then went to the sidelines to pull on my sweat pants and watch my teammates. The day was beautiful, clear blue sky with only a stray puffy white cloud floating by. The leaves were all gold's, crimson's, and yellow's; the temps already falling to the fifties. A perfect day, as far as I was concerned.

"Okay, boys. That's it. Remember, just cause practice is over, doesn't mean you get to be lazy. Keep yourselves in shape, use the weight room in the gym and don't overdo the sweets – especially over the holidays. See you boys in the new year. That's it."

I gathered my books and headed home. Two-Bit had already told me he couldn't pick me up, so I was hoofing it. I didn't mind. The fall leaves were something to behold and I rather enjoyed walking along, my feet crunching the already dead crisp leaves along the sidewalks and roadways. About midway home, I pulled out the report card I'd gotten earlier in homeroom, checking it again. Three "A's", three "B's". I wondered how big a fit Darry would have.

Once home, I tossed my books on my bed and headed to the kitchen to find something to eat, running always makes me hungry. However, the selection left much to be desired. I settled with an egg sandwich, ignoring the tuna. Darry liked it in casseroles, I didn't mind it swimming in mayo with pickle relish, but wasn't that enthused to bother with now. Besides the tuna, the pantry held a dozen cans of soup. I sighed, wondering what type of dinner I was going to come up with out of this. A few minutes later, I gave up. I'd make pancakes or something.

I went to my room to shuck off my clothes and grab a shower. When I was done with that, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the laundry room. I tossed my stuff in then got Darry's from his room and then to Soda's to get his stuff. Once the washer was full, I went back to my room to do my homework. It was Friday, but there wasn't anything else to do. Ever since the DX went up, Darry's been rather picky about me just going out without asking first. I hated it, but he'd had enough to worry about. I'd decided just to hang out and for once, do as he asked.

I wondered where Soda was, but knew he was off with Steve, probably out finally having some fun. He was eighteen, plenty old enough to go out on his own. Darry still pressed him to keep to his curfew, but Soda was usually home in plenty of time anyway. I looked at the calender. Halloween was coming up in two days. Not that it meant anything to us, I was too old to do that sort of stuff anymore, and Darry wouldn't buy any candy anyway until the first of November when it was half off.

There weren't any trick -or- treaters in this neighborhood; hadn't been in years, not since the clashes between the upper and lower classes went full steam. The kids from our side of town went off to scour other parts of Tulsa, where the candy was better and the fights less chancy. That didn't mean we didn't eat the junk, we just had to wait to get it when it was cheaper. Then, Soda and I would buy as much as we could and shove it in the freezer, taking out what we wanted when we wanted it. It wasn't unusual to decorate the Christmas tree while still munching on ghoul shaped chocolate bars around here.

When I was done with my homework, I put my glasses up and leaned over the side of my bed backwards, so that my head was hanging off the side and my long legs were stretched up against the wall. I closed my eyes, wondering what Linda was doing. Thinking of her always made me smile. Feeling the head rush from being upside down for a few minutes, I opened my eyes again, seeing my guitar in the corner. I remembered something I'd wanted to do for a while and got up.

I had sheet music around the house somewhere. I was wanting to see if it was transferable to guitar - how this particular song that kept going over and over in my head would sound. I searched the piano bench for it but it wasn't there. I knew I had seen it recently but wasn't sure, then remembered it was probably somewhere in Soda's room. I used to keep some of Mom's old sheet music in there when I used to bunk with him. Exactly _where_ in his room, I wasn't sure of. I searched my desk but couldn't find it. It frustrated me, because once I had an idea for something, it wasn't easily let go of.

I searched under my old side of the bed, lifting up the mattress to check my old hiding spot. Nothing was there but some old papers. Then, out of frustration, I checked under Soda's side. An eyebrow went up when I saw a Playboy shoved there, two months old - according to the date. Darry would skin him if he knew about it, and no doubt shred me to pieces if he caught me looking at it. Still, I was a guy - so I checked out the centerfold, my eyes damn near bugging out my head at what I saw, felt myself get all hot and a sudden tightness filling my pants. Jeeze Louise! I wondered how tits _got_ that big, cause I ain't seen no girls around here with boobs that huge. The more pages I flipped, the more intriguing the magazine got, and the worse my nether regions said "_do something about this, now!"_ I headed off to the bathroom, magazine in hand. Thank God, no one was here but me.

When I came out of the bathroom a bit later, I was glad I was still alone in the house. I snuck the magazine back to where I'd found it and noticed something else pushed further under the mattress. By now, the sheets of missing music were forgotten. Thinking it was another old Playboy, I pulled the thing out only to find it wasn't a magazine, but a letter. I sat down on his bed holding it. It wasn't addressed to me, it was for Soda. It was from the Army and was opened. Now, it wasn't my norm to go reading Soda's mail, especially seeing as how he didn't get that much, but by now I was intrigued. What did the Army want with him?

I pulled the contents out and read what it said, my heart suddenly hammering in my chest for the second time in an hour, only this time it wasn't for pleasure. My hands shook, my breathing got choked, my vision got weird – like I could suddenly only see the letter, the rest of the room disappeared as if erased. Suddenly, drops of red fell on the letter. It took several more drops before I even realized it was my blood dripping down and yet I _still _couldn't move.

"Ponyboy! _Ponyboy!_ Look at me!"

The letter was taken from my hands, snatched out, leaving my hands in the position they held as if still holding it. A hand cupped my chin, forcing my head to move. My strange vision saw only the person in front of me, but it was as if he were a mile away. Then he shook me by my arms.

"_PONYBOY_!"

Sound crashed back into my consciousness, tunnel vision evaporated.

"Soda? You got... _drafted_?"

He was kneeling in front of me, both of his hands squeezing the daylights out of my biceps. His eyes looked strange, as if panicked. His pupils darted side to side, looking - I guess - at my own.

"Drafted? What the hell is he talking about, Soda?" I heard Steve's voice somewhere in the room, but didn't take my eyes off Sodapop. He relaxed his grip on my arms, reaching over to get the towel hanging off the footboard.

"Shut up, Steve. Gimme a minute. Pony, hold still. Your nose is bleeding."

"Soda? _Why_? Why didn't you tell me? _When_?..."

"Pone, hush... I'm not going. I've been disqualified. I'm staying here..."

"Hell, Soda, you were supposed to report a while back! Why didn't you tell me?" Steve's angry voice came from somewhere in the room, but I still didn't see him. I only saw Soda.

"Not now, Steve! Pony, why were you going through my things?"

My mind drew a blank, unable to hear and understand what he'd said. "When are you leaving? Tell me!" My voice jumped, cracking and unrecognizable. "Just tell me, _please_!" I felt so cold, trembling hard.

His hands cupped my face, holding me steady. "I'm not, Pone. I'm staying here, with you and Darry. I ain't got all my parts no more, remember? The other letter came in the mail today. They can't use me, I'm staying here."

My hands were shaking as I wiped my eyes. I hadn't noticed they were wet. I put my hands on his arms which were still holding onto me. "You're not going?" I asked, it coming out as a question and a statement at the same time.

He shook his head, giving me a faint Soda-like grin. "No, Pone. I'm not."

I looked down a moment, then collapsed into his arms. He held me tight. I suddenly remembered he was supposed to be taking it easy, his ribs were still mending and I was probably hurting him. Not to mention the strain on his knee had to be smarting bad. I loosened my grip but he continued to hold me tightly to him.

"Not yet, Lil' Colt. Not yet," he whispered in my ear. My arms stretched further around his back, feeling the bandages under his shirt, my fingers pressing not quite as hard, but enough to where I could feel his heart beating in his chest. Or maybe it was mine. Wherever Steve was, if he was even still in the room, I didn't see him. I lay my head on Soda's shoulder knowing how deadly Vietnam was … and how close we had come to losing him.

"I'm not leaving you, Ponyboy," he whispered in my ear as he started to pull away. "I'm gonna be here, for all the good and bad. Now, what were you doing going through my stuff?"

He was smiling at me through tears of his own. He reached over and grabbed some tissues off his nightstand, handing some to me and getting more for himself. It took me a minute to remember.

"I was looking for some sheet music. I thought I left it in here, but can't find it. I'm sorry... I shouldn't have...."

"No, Pony, it's alright. I'm sorry you found out like this. I wanted to tell you, but never knew how to say it. Then when I got hurt at the DX, I got disqualified to serve. I wasn't sure if I even needed to tell you then. No one knew..."

"No one?" I interrupted.

"Well, just Darry. I only had a little over a week notice. I had to tell him. I made him swear not to tell anyone though. I knew if anyone in the gang knew, you'd find out. I didn't want you finding out alone. Looks like my suspicions were right. This was too much for you to take. I'm sorry, Pone. So sorry."

I couldn't speak, not trusting my voice anymore. It was still going up and down the scale and I couldn't control the pitch. He sat next to me on the bed, tossing the bloodied towel into his hamper.

He looked at me again, grabbing more tissue and pressing it against my nose. "Still bleeding some, but not much." He laughed a bit, looking at me with a smile. "Sheet music, glory hallelujah!" He ruffled my hair, hugging me close then backing away again. "Steve and me went shopping, sort of. We raided Two-Bit's house for a change. Wanna see what we got?" He was looking at me, eyes still teary but swimming in laughter. I smiled too, feeling a bit better. As long as he wasn't leaving, I could handle it. I checked my nose, the bleeding had stopped.

"His mother won't like it." I said, finding my voice again as the shakes settled down.

"Nah, she won't care. C'mon. I even swiped their cookies." Soda got off the bed, hauling me up with him.

XXX

That night, Soda called everyone together. I watched as Two-Bit came in, dangling a yo-yo by a knotted string tied to his finger; and a few minutes later, Steve came following along. Pony had been sitting in the dark in front of the TV, staring at it but I could tell he hadn't heard a word on the set. He'd already done the dishes, which even though he's seemed willing to have that be his constant chore since last summer, I still felt bad about it. He didn't need to do them _all _the time, but for now, I was sort of glad he didn't mind. With the cast on my hand, I couldn't get it wet; and Soda couldn't stand in one spot that long without getting weak or having pain tear up his side.

Soda had told me already that Pony had found out about the draft letter. Said he'd taken it hard, but was dealing with it okay now that he knew Soda was ineligible to serve. Steve, however, was still pissed that Soda hadn't told him in the first place, and looking at him tracing the woodgrain patterns in the tabletop, I could see a simmering anger that refused to cool off.

"Whassup?" Two-Bit asked, sitting down at the table.

"Pony, come sit with us." Soda called. I looked over, watching my youngest brother get up and quietly join us at the table. He hadn't said much all night.

"Two-Bit, I've been holding something back that unfortunately, you get to be the last to know about in this little circle. I intended to tell you all, but in my own way, and well... that sort of backfired big time. I uh, I got drafted."

You could have heard a pin drop. Soda pulled out the draft letter and sat it on the table. Steve reached for it first. I just let it lay there, already knowing what it said and wanting nothing to do with it. Pony's instinctive reaction was the same... he leaned back in his chair, away from it. I reached over and squeezed his arm a moment, seeing his nose and ears get a tinge pinker but he held his emotions in check. At least the bloodletting hadn't started again.

"Drafted? Holy shit!" Two-Bit said softly. He had paled considerably, looking from Soda to the letter and back again. Steve finished reading it and tossed it back down with a flick of his wrist, just in time for Two-Bit to snatch it up.

"But I ain't going. The fire at the DX sort of saved me from having to go. Due to the injuries I got … the busted rib and the lung mess, I'm ineligible." He tossed another envelope on the table, one I hadn't seen yet. This time I got to it first, skimming it quickly then taking a moment longer to re-read it. It said he was deemed 4-F due to "_non-recuperative injuries sustained prior to the enlistment date_". Reading between the lines, they wanted to make sure he understood he was _not_ eligible for VA benefits. To me it didn't matter. It meant he was eligible for a life now.

Pony sat in stony silence, arms crossed over his chest. Steve had pulled out a pack of smokes and a lighter, but I gave his chair a nudge with my foot, causing him to look at me. I shook my head ever so slightly. He understood and put the stuff away. Pony was doing well abstaining from smoking, but he still had rough patches every now and then. Soda … lord... I didn't even want to_ think_ the problems second- hand smoke would give what was left of his battered lungs.

"I didn't want to tell you guys … well... because I didn't know how. It wasn't like I'd be gone on vacation or something like that. This ain't been easy, more like hell on earth to hold in, and it's hurt everyone. I'm sorry if I screwed this up. Steve, I'd have told you; really man, I_ would_ have. I didn't mean for you to find out like you did. Sorry buddy."

"Hell, Sodapop, it's okay. Least you ain't going. That's what's important." He finally looked like the simmering anger had fizzled out.

We sat in silence for a bit, eventually everyone picked up the two letters sitting on the table, everyone, that is, except Ponyboy. I reached over and grabbed the cards on the counter, handing them to Soda to shuffle. Everyone started off with weak hands, not really getting our heads in the game, but eventually... chips were flying and boisterous claims of who had a better hand were heard. At one point, Two-Bit had gone in to turn on the radio in the kitchen and came back. Everyone was cooling down from the news.

Again, everyone except Ponyboy. He was playing as if he wasn't even paying attention.

"Pone, your turn to shuffle and deal," Soda called, setting the deck in front of him.

"No thanks. I'm gonna go for a run. That okay, Darry?"

I looked at him and nodded. "Sure. Wear a jacket and stay in the neighborhood."

He got up and headed to his room. A few minutes later, he came back out wearing his sweats, a thin jacket and a pair of gloves. I watched as he headed out down the sidewalk and around the corner, then tried to concentrate on my cards again.

"Any cards?" Two-Bit asks me holding the deck out ready to let some fly.

I tossed a couple in the discard pile. "Two," I said. All I need are two.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	33. Charity

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 33

**Charity**

XXX

Halloween came and went, and as expected... no kiddies came calling on our door. Darry, Soda and me sat and watched some scary Halloween movies on TV, sharing a bowl of popcorn between us.

"You gonna sleep tonight, or am I gonna have to leave the hall light on for ya?" Darry teased me as he turned off the set.

"Not nice, Darry. Not nice at all." Soda teased back. I knew he was only looking out for me though.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Dar." I said, yawning as I got up. "I don't think I'm_ that_ much of a whus."

"Yeah, well... we'll see. Night guys."

"You can come sleep in with me, if you get scared Pone." Soda whispered once Darry was in his room and out of earshot. I laughed.

"Not you too!" I chuckled.

"Hey, I'm only offering," he shrugged apologetically.

I got ready for bed and turned off my lamp, thinking not about the movie – which I truly didn't find haunting ... it was more silly than anything else. _Psycho_ was scary, this stuff they played tonight was lame. Instead, I laid in bed remembering Halloween's from when I was a kid.

The earliest Halloween I could remember was sometime around when I was six. Mom used to dress me up as a cowboy, complete with a fake pistol. If I remembered right, she'd made the vest – even had fringe on the sleeves. Soda had been the sheriff and Darry was his prisoner. That was the only Halloween I remembered when Darry actually dressed up and went with us, after that, he still went for another year or two - but only to keep an eye on us.

Soda kept going for a few more years - until he and Steve got in trouble for letting the air out in people's tires who wouldn't give out candy. Those days, he was more into the tricks he could pull than the treats he got. Not to mention everyone raided my treat bag anyway to get the good stuff. I stopped the whole thing when I was eight or nine. By then, me and Johnny would just sit out in the lot and eat candied apples, me watching him sneaking smokes while we talked. Or _didn't_ talk, as the case sometimes was. Hard to explain, really.

I miss those days something fierce.

XXX

"Hey Darry, don't forget, I have basketball practice, gonna be late coming home." I shouted over the water.

"This wasn't something you could have maybe waited to tell me when I got out, Ponyboy?" Darry asked, looking out from behind the shower curtain.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I could have, but I got to go. Got a test this morning, was hoping to get some more review time in before class."

He shut the curtain. "Fine, whatever. Do good on your test. Come straight home after practice."

I shut the bathroom door, turning to see Soda contemplating something in the kitchen. He looked worried.

"Not enough food dye, Soda?" I teased.

"More like - not enough food," he murmured. I looked and did a double take. It was barer than usual. Granted, the three of us go through quite a bit of food, and having two buddies over constantly that assist us in making the food go away doesn't really help, but for the first time in nearly two years, I could actually see the back end of the pantry. Even the stuff no one wanted to eat was getting used up.

"You gonna go shopping today?"

He looked at me, then at the bathroom door. "Not today. Darry won't get paid until Friday. Do me a big favor, don't be asking Darry about grocery... okay? I'll figure out something."

I nodded, confused why no one had gotten anything, but trusted Soda to do as he asked.

"I'm gonna go. See ya tonight." I picked up my books and headed out.

XXX

"Well, how'd ya do?" Tony asked, waving his 93 in front of me. I looked at my paper, a sprinkling of red showing through. I flipped it and smiled. 91. Still respectable.

"Hah! Beat ya!" He nearly yelled. Mrs. Johnson looked over.

"Tony, in your seat, please," she said dryly as she passed out the rest of the papers.

I nodded, still giving him the kudos he deserved. "Yep, ya did. I'll have to work harder."

"How's it going? You ain't your usual pain- in- the- butt, smart-ass self. Something up?" He whispered, looking at me strangely just before he turned around.

I shook my head, getting out my notebook as Mrs. Johnson was writing new stuff down on the board. Tony took the hint and turned back around in his seat. A second later, he passed a note to me.

_I don't know what the deal is with you lately, but … if you need anything, just ask, I'll try to help. Just let me know. T._

I folded it and slipped it in my wallet, my finger getting a paper cut on something shoved in the corner. I looked and saw it, a card. One I'd put in there long ago and forgotten about. I sucked the drop of blood off my finger, looked at it and thought.

Then thought some more.

Then it hit me, I knew what I had to do. How to go about doing it was the problem.

XXX

Aspirin. I wanted aspirin. The echoing sound of basketballs and squeaky tennis shoes on the hardwood for an hour straight was still reverberating around in my head. I wondered if this would be something I could get used to or if it would always be this bad.

I pulled my hands in my sleeves, scrunching my chin down to ward off the biting chill of the cold. The trees were nearly bare, just the stubborn stragglers refusing to give up their branches remained. Time and wind would prevail – they would come down eventually. Along the way home, I noticed the piles of leaves raked up in heaps just waiting, _begging_ almost, for someone to come diving in. I grinned, wishing I could do that just once more. However, it was not to be. Some of the neighbors were so frustrated at area kids doing this, they'd gone to hiding stumps, logs or cinder blocks under the piles to teach jumpers a lesson. Now no one jumped, fearing a broken arm or leg for their trouble.

Some porches still had the decaying remains of their jack-o-lanterns out, attracting bugs during the day, cats and mice at night. Darry didn't get us a pumpkin this year. After what happened to Soda, I don't think anyone really thought of it. I was the only one who bothered with it anyway. I don't think it's crossed his mind yet that I hadn't carved one up, being too busy working every chance he's had.

"Hey Ponyboy, how was practice?" Soda asked as I came in, sitting on the couch with his leg propped up, a bag of ice balanced precariously on his knee. I dropped my books and went straight to the fireplace where some logs were already lit up, rubbing my hands to try to get some warmth in them.

"Good. Loud as all get out, but good. Coach seems to like the way I pass the ball. We'll see how it goes in our first real game this Friday." I'd shucked off my coat and hung it up then grabbed my books and headed to my room, tossing them on my bed.

"What's for dinner?" I asked when I returned. Soda looked at me.

"Oatmeal."

Huh? "Oatmeal? As in … _oatmeal_, oatmeal?" I didn't like oatmeal – unless it was oatmeal cookies, he knew that.

He nodded, going back to whatever story he had been reading in the paper.

"Darry home?" I looked around, noticing the truck was absent in the drive and the house was sort of quiet.

"Nope. Working over at the warehouse early. He said he'd be in closer to midnight. According to Darry, you were to - quote - do your homework, eat, brush your teeth... ya know, the same stuff you've been doing for several years. Think you can handle all that without my help?" He peeked out from behind the paper, giving me a half-hearted grin.

"Yeah. Hey Soda?"

"Huh?"

"We okay?" Something wasn't right, and I was afraid to guess.

He waited a moment, then put the paper down. "Why?"

I groaned. "Don't treat me like I'm a little kid. I can tell when something's up. Why hasn't he gotten grocery? He's got that emergency 'if all else fails' fund to buy food with. What's wrong now?"

He folded the paper and put it down. "C'mere." He patted the seat next to him. I went and sat down, he looked at me closer. "You know I ain't working for a while, and my check was sort of keeping things balanced. And it's true, my boss paid for my medical bills and stuff, but he refused to pay for Darry's. Seems saving my life wasn't in the boss's insurance plan. Anyway, Darry had to use that extra money to pay for his medical bills, so there ain't nothing left in it. Until I go back to work, we're just gonna have to make do with what we got. We ain't gonna go hungry, but … well, it's gonna be slim times for a while, okay? You understand, right?"

I nodded. Things were worse than I thought. "How're you doing?" I asked as I touched his leg gingerly. His knee was swollen again. He hadn't been using the cane - I didn't think he would, I knew he hated it.

"I'll be fine. Just being my old stubborn self, not listening to doctor's advice and all. Sort of runs in our family, huh?"

I snorted. "Yeah. Listen, I ain't all that excited about oatmeal, so I'm gonna go do my homework and get to bed."

He nodded. "Sure, Pone. Fine. I'd offer to help, but I don't think it'd do much good for you."

"It's okay. Just science and math, maybe a little history. No biggie. Don't sweat it. Night, Soda."

"Don't hurt your brain or nothing. Night Ponyboy."

XXX

It was cold in the house. So cold that my shivering was what had woken me up. I got up, feet feeling the floor and pulling back instantly as if they were burned, when in reality it was just the opposite.. icy. The heater hadn't cut on yet, and I had no idea why. Darry usually set the thermostat high enough just to take the chill off, which I was used to, but this was insane. I wrapped my blanket around my shoulders and padded down the hall, squinting at the thermostat setting. _Good Lord!_ Was the needle stuck? Who the hell keeps a house at 45 degrees?

"Don't mess with it." Darry's tired, quiet voice came from the darkness. I looked, movement at the fireplace got my attention as he reached over and tossed another log in. One good thing about being in construction, there was plenty of free firewood at his work sites, you just had to haul and chop it yourself.

"How was work?" I asked as I came over and sat down.

"Long and tiring. You should go back to bed, you have school in a few hours."

I noticed he'd made himself at home on the couch - pillow, blankets and all. He had a concerned, worried look on his face but didn't share the reasons. He looked over at me again, staring down at the floor. I looked too, noticing my bare feet sticking out from under my wrappings.

"Mercy, Ponyboy. I've told you already about wearing socks. Now, go put some on; take the spare blanket from the closet and go back to bed. You'll warm up."

I nodded, giving him a final look. He was tired. I realized he was carrying the load of three on his back again and this time, no one could help. I wasn't going to make it harder for him by complaining about the cold or the nearly empty pantry. I understood what was going on and why. Arguing wouldn't fix it, only one thing would. I turned to go.

"Night, Darry."

XXX

I grabbed my jacket and headed out early, skipping breakfast as there wasn't much left to eat at my place anyway. I'd heard Soda's bed start to squeak, giving away the tell-tale signs of him waking up, but didn't go in to tell him bye. Instead, I pulled the front door shut as quietly as I could and headed off towards school.

My stomach growled, but I silently scolded it. I couldn't really say we were out of food, as there were still a few cans of tuna remaining along with some crackers too, but none of that made for good breakfast fare. Still, my stomach wasn't going to be placated with mere words or thoughts, and it_ had_ been a few days without much getting down my throat to eat. I never thought it would get this bare in our kitchen - but, well, it had. I _did_ have an option, but didn't want to use it. I didn't think I was that desperate. However, another lurch of my stomach made me change my mind. I gave up and crossed the street, cutting through his neighbor's back yard as a shortcut then climbed the steps and poked my head inside.

"Hey, anyone home?"

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. Morning Ponyboy, whacha doing here?"

"Morning, Karen. Two-Bit around?"

"Yeah, he's in his room. Don't ask me to go get him, I don't want to know what he's doing up there all by himself."

I grinned and headed to their kitchen.

"Where's your mom?"

"Sleeping. Got in a few hours ago. Ain't you gonna be late, Mr. 'High School at the age of 13'?"

She, just like so many others, still could not get over how I'd skipped a grade. I ignored her smart aleck remark as I searched their pantry, finally pulling out a box of Frosted Flakes then got a spoon and bowl. It would have to hold me over.

"Hey Karen, seen my jacket anywhere? Ya know, the one with the black stripe?"

"Nope, why don't you ask your buddy, the one raiding our house for food."

"Huh?"

I heard footsteps getting closer but didn't stop eating. I was beyond hungry. I was starving.

"Well, fancy meeting you here at Restaurant Mathews! How ya doing, Pone?"

I nodded, my mouth full.

"Well, when you get done, I can give ya a ride to school. Otherwise, we're both gonna be late."

He grabbed himself a donut and some milk, washed his hands of the powdered sugar and got the rest of his stuff for school. While he was getting his stuff together, I poured myself a second bowl and added more milk. He noticed and chuckled.

"Glory, kid; you hungry or got a tapeworm?"

"Sorry," I muttered with my mouth full. Karen noticed, turned up her nose at my obvious bad manners and walked out. He laughed as he watched her leave. I finished eating and washed the bowl and spoon, got my things and followed him out. "Ain't your mom gonna hear all the noise we're making and get mad?" I asked in a low tone.

"Nah, she works in a bar, Ponyboy; she's used to noise. She only gets up if we're quiet. Hey, Darry not get grocery or something? I noticed y'all hadn't had cake in a while. I'm starting to have withdrawals!"

I looked out the side window. "Had to pay the power bill instead." I answered softly. I'd seen the bill in the drawer, marked "Second Notice" in red.

Silence sat between us for a bit.

"You know you can come over any time you want to, Ponyboy. I ain't got to send out an invitation."

I nodded again. "Thanks, Two-Bit. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say nothing to Darry, though." Two-Bit looked at me. "Hurt his pride or something. Ya dig?"

"Yeah, I read ya. I'll put some stuff in a bag and haul it to your place. Mom won't miss it."

"Don't. Darry'll know where it came from, just the same."

He looked over at me, nodded but said nothing.

XXX

"Steve-O! How ya holding up, ye ol' spleenless one?"

_Great. Just what I needed. Two-Bit. _Looking at the clock, he had about three minutes to get to class, not that being punctual had ever been any concern of his. I put the muffler to the Plymouth down and went over to see him. Those moronic classmates of mine had damn near ruined the car while I was out mending up, installing the exhaust system backwards. I had a doc's note to come back to school, but wasn't supposed to be doing anything physical. However, these numb skull idiots in this class were pushing me to the limit. They were tough hoods, sure, but were as knowledged about cars as Two-Bit was about graduating. Two-Bit strolled over to meet me and pulled out a smoke, lit it and passed it over.

"I'm holding, and stop making jokes about my missing internal organs before I rip yours out. Ain't you supposed to be in class somewhere?"

"Ahh, I'll get there eventually. I needed to ask you something."

"Shoot," I said between pursed lips that held my smoke.

"You saw Sodapop yesterday, anything going on?"

I hated these types of questions. I looked at him and rolled my eyes. "Can you be a little more specific?"

"They, uh, they doing okay... money wise?"

I shrugged. "How the hell should I know. Darry don't exactly show me his bank statement. Why?"

Two-Bit nudged a rock with the toe of his boot. Christ, like I had time for twenty questions. "Two-Bit, I got a car to put together, so out with it. What's your beef?"

"The kid was hungry this morning. Came to my place to eat."

"So?"

He gave me a dirty look, as if it was obvious and I was the blind one here. I just stood there, staring at him, waiting for the clarification.

"Over the last two years, how many times has the kid actually been so hungry that he had to find food somewhere else? Usually he won't eat, and you know how much that bugs the shit out of Muscles. Now, he's starved to the point he's chowing down at my place? They got food, ain't they?"

Well damn, that stumped me. For once Two-Bit had a point. I'd been there last night but hadn't seen any leftovers laying out, but didn't think anything of it since it was after their usual dinner time. The kid was doing the dishes and Soda was laying out on the couch, obvious that his side was still hurting. Darry was pulling more hours at the warehouse and wasn't home. I'd asked how things were, but Soda's only told me the doc's were expecting him back today to take out his stitches and get another x-ray, but that was about it. As far as anything else going on, I hadn't noticed and Soda didn't mention it.

"I guess so. They _should_, the state would get on Darry like fleas on a mutt if he was making the kid go without."

The bell rang, Two-Bit ground out his smoke and I did the same. He didn't look quite so convinced.

"I dunno. How's about you and me make sure the kid gets at least one good meal today. Something besides the usual fare?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing my own cash was dwindling down into a trickle. Still, Something about the way Two-Bit was looking at me - and a creepy feeling that maybe he was right - pushed me over like an old softie. If this kept up, he'd screw up my rep, then I'd have to bash him one.

"Sure, Two-Bit. We'll bump up lunch to something better than sandwiches, but I ain't got a lot of cash, so you'd better watch it."

He nodded as he turned to go. "Sure thing, Steve-O. I knew you'd be a buddy. Eventually, _one day_, you're gonna admit to liking that kid, just like the rest of us."

I nearly growled. "Go to class, Two-Bit. Before your luck runs out."

He grinned and headed back across the grounds. I shook my head and picked up the muffler again.

XXX

The day rolled along like any other, one class miring into another. It was hard to concentrate, worrying about stuff at home that I couldn't control.

I met the guys in the parking lot for lunch, Steve had been back to school for a while since sitting at a desk wasn't considered "exerting himself". He wasn't as dedicated at school like I was, but he is smart and wants to graduate just the same. What his plans were after graduation – I didn't know. Ain't like he talks to me about stuff like that. Anyway, his side was still bugging him, but at least he wouldn't be out of work as long as Soda. He was set to return soon. I climbed in Steve's car and settled down, my stomach already rumbling again. Thankfully, the radio muffled it.

"You guys, where are we going?" I hissed as Steve passed our regular lunch place and kept going.

"Shut your trap, kid. You go where we take you, and I'm in the mood for something different." Steve barked at me while Two-Bit busied himself with his switch, popping the blade out and closing it again, over and over.

They took me to Moe's - a lunch joint on the East side that we didn't frequent often since they usually served too much for any one person to eat; that and they weren't exactly cheap, either. They_ did_ have pool tables and a juke box though. That and they were fast... we'd just have enough time to eat before having to get back to school.

They squished me between them in a booth and waited for me to order first, a spaghetti plate since it was the cheapest thing on the menu, then wouldn't accept my offer to share it with me, splitting a sandwich between themselves instead.

"Eat, kid. We're gonna go shoot some pool for a bit." Steve insisted as they got up and got the cue's. I had clued in to what they were doing, but was too hungry to argue. Two-Bit seemed a bit smug as they got up leaving me with a plate of food. In the end, I still couldn't eat it all and was comfortably full when it was time to leave.

"Thanks guys," I said sort of embarrassed as we piled back in Steve's car for the return trip back to the school. I knew this was Two-Bit's idea, even though he sat there and said nothing.

"Don't mention it, kid." Steve said. That much I knew he really meant. It'd ding his rep if anyone thought he was being nice to me.

The rest of the day went by in slow procession. When the last bell rang, I headed off to catch the bus. I had another stop to make before going home, and it was going to be iffy if I'd get there and back in time.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	34. The Root Of Deception

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 34

**The Root Of Deception**

XXX

"Hey Max, I uh, well, how are ya?"

"Ponyboy! Long time, no see! Where've you been hiding?"

"Not hiding, really, just busy with school and stuff. How's everything around here?" I looked around, there were still some kennels needing cleaning so I grabbed some paper and gloves, starting in to help.

"Oh, very good. Sales have been up now that the holidays are coming closer. Everyone wants a new puppy or kitten under the tree. What about you, I seem to remember you wanting one of those dalmatian pups I had last summer. They've all found homes, but I'll let you in on a secret … Mrs. Hoffstetler is going to have more ready to be sold at the start of December. Want me to hold one back for you? Just say the word, boy or girl.. what would you like?"

I smiled. "Max, as much as I'd love a dog, you know Darry won't let me have one. Thanks anyway."

"Maybe he'll change his mind? You've gotten older, shown more responsibility. He's got to give in eventually. Every growing boy needs a dog."

"Yeah, well, I don't think it's going to happen this year." I noticed the time and hurried up. "Max, I was wondering, could you use a little help here in the evenings, like last summer; cleaning the kennels and stuff?"

He stopped and looked at me. "I thought Darry didn't want you working during the school year?"

"Well, he doesn't; but things have changed and I could really use the work. If you can use my help, that is." I picked up the poodle running around and set him back in the cage, making sure the water and food bowls were filled.

"Well, I could use the help, that's for sure, but only if Darry says it's okay. I don't want to get in the way of anyone's family business."

I nodded, trying to hide my dismay. Darry had been adamant about me not working. _"Summers only. It's my job the rest of the year._" I wondered if he'd be willing to give a little, especially with Soda out of commission, but doubted it. "I understand. Maybe this summer, if things work out."

He looked at me, crinkling his eyebrows. "Everything okay, Ponyboy?"

He may be older, but that only made him wiser. I relaxed, not letting on. "Yeah, just trying to find something to do with my afternoons and make a little money for the holidays. I'll stop by again later, just to say 'hey' and all."

He grinned, pushing the cash button on the register and handing me a few dollars. "Here, for your help this afternoon."

I started to protest, but he pushed my hand back, shaking his head.

"No no, I mean it. You're a good kid, Ponyboy. If Darry lets you come over, I'd be happy to take you. You need a ride home?"

I pocketed the money, looked at the clock and shook my head. "No thanks, Max. The bus will be here in a few minutes. Um, thanks for everything."

"You're more than deserving, young man. Go on, don't miss your bus."

I left the store, disappointed. Looking at my watch, I still had a few minutes. I'd been fighting it all afternoon, hoping Max would be my solution, but held on to this last hope just in case. It was a long shot, but knowing what was facing me at home, I had to at least try. I slipped my dime in the pay phone next to the bus stop and dialed the number on the card.

A few rings later and someone picked up. I told him who I was, toggled his memory to where he'd seen me and suddenly the line was alive with him buzzing. I felt weird about the whole thing, but he assured me I was good enough and would be happy to make the connection for me. I made the appointment, thanked him and hung up just as the bus pulled up. As I got settled in my seat, I wondered if what I was going to do next would make things better, or worse.

XXX

"Hey, Darry. I'm surprised to see you here, I thought you lived over on the East side."

I put the can in my basket and turned to see who was talking to me. "Michelle! Hey! I, uh, well, you're right. I live over on the other side of town, but was working out this way and thought I'd stop in and get some shopping done. So you live out this way?"

I never expected to see Michelle here. I'd thought about her a few times since Soda'd come home, but have been too busy to let her be anything more than a passing thought. I hardly recognized her with her hair down and wearing regular clothes instead of that white nurses uniform. Trying not to be noticeable about it, I moved the basket I was carrying behind me. I was sort of embarrassed, most of the stuff I'd gotten was from the clearance rack, half of it dented but still good. It was all I could afford for now until my regular check was in my hands next week.

I hated this, felt like I was letting my brothers down. They weren't complaining, at least - they weren't complaining to _me_ yet. I was pretty sure Soda was running interference on the complaints so far, but eventually they'd both let me have it if I didn't get something in the cabinets soon, but I was doing the best I could. It was either pay the mortgage and the power bill - both of which were already late, or have a grand feast to celebrate becoming homeless.

Soda'd understand, but I doubted Ponyboy would. My warehouse check had come in and all the extra hours had really helped. As tired as I was, I could finally get a few things to tide us over - as long as we were really careful about it. After finishing here, I had planned to go to the bread outlet out by the highway, stock up on a few loaves that I could put in the freezer until we needed them. Secretly I wondered how long a person could live off PB&J.

"Yeah, well, close to here anyway. Out in Cedar Heights, a few miles out. So, you're just getting off work?"

I looked down; my tired denim jeans and sweaty flannel shirt were certainly not making a good impression. "Yeah, finally off the clock for a while. Are you working later?"

"Not tonight. Tomorrow. Say, you want to go have dinner?"

I was stumped. In the first place, I wasn't used to dealing with a woman being so bold as to ask the guy out. In the second place, I couldn't even afford a twenty cent burger at McDonald's for myself, let alone anyone else, and thirdly; Ponyboy was having his opening exhibition game tonight. I was eager to see if he was any good at it, especially after all the practice he'd been putting in. His coach had planned several of these games with schools outside of their district, just to see what the kids had. But I _did _want to go out with her.

"I'd love to, but Soda and Ponyboy are waiting for me back at the house. My youngest brother's playing basketball for his high school, and I sort of have to go. I'd love a raincheck, if that's possible."

She smiled. "For you, anytime! Tell him good luck for me. And how's Sodapop? Is he feeling better?"

"Some. His side still hurts and his knee swells everyday, but he's managing."

She grinned a knowing grin. "Tell him he has to stay off it and keep it elevated or it'll never get better. And as for you, when does that cast come off?" She asked, gazing at my hand.

"In three days, thank heavens."

"Then how about dinner next Saturday? If you're free, that is."

I smiled, knowing I'd have my check by then, and it should be enough to cover whatever we'd need with a little left over. "Saturday sounds great." I pulled a pen out of my pocket and searched for something to write on, gave up and used my cast. "What's your address?"

She laughed. "Now that's one I haven't seen before. It's 218 Wilcox Street........"

I got her address, bantered a bit more with her then headed off to the registers as she went to finish her shopping. At least this was something new to look forward to, something besides hammering nails all day and moving boxes half the night just to come home to a house I couldn't afford to heat appropriately.

"That's be $2.74, sir." the cashier said. I pulled out the money and paid her, went back to my truck and headed off to the bread place, hoping it was still open.

XXX

"Hey Tony," I said before class. "Remember how you said if you could help, that all I had to do was ask?"

He cocked a grin. "Yeah, whassup?"

"I need a favor, one you can't rat me out on to anyone. Not even my brothers or .. _anyone_."

He looked at me suspiciously. "What are you getting me into, Ponyboy?"

"I ain't getting _you_ into nothing. I just need to borrow something I know you got. But if you're gonna rat me out, never mind." I started to walk away, but he snagged my shoulder.

"Shoot, man, you even gonna clue me in or not? Whacha need?"

I told him and he nearly laughed. "What do you want _that_ for? Who's getting married?"

"No one's getting married, Tony. And I can't say what I need it for, I just _need_ it. Just... can I borrow it or not?"

He nodded, trying not to laugh. "Sure, what do I care? Don't even fit me anymore. Come over this afternoon and get it. My folks won't be home for a while anyway. Sure wish I knew what you were up to."

"Tony, even I ain't sure what I'm doing. Just keep your trap shut. Hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Ponyboy. Loud and clear."

XXX

"Afternoon, ma'am. Is Linda in?"

Her mother put me on hold while she called Linda, and a few seconds later, I heard her voice. I smiled, not realizing how I'd missed it.

"_Hey you! I thought you weren't ever gonna call. How are you? Do you have any idea how bad you scared me?"_

"I'm sorry. I should have called, it's just been sort of nuts around here."

"_I can imagine. How's your brothers?"_

"Darry's fine. His hand's still in a cast, but he's doing fine otherwise. Soda's home, still sore and busted up. You know they had to take a part of his lung, right?"

"_Wow! I didn't realize. I sort of got dragged out of your room before I could hear much of anything. Mrs. Nixon gave me the third degree the whole way home. What a fun three hour ride that was! Did that behemoth brother of yours get on your case too badly?"_

"No, surprisingly he didn't. I think he figures as long as you're there and I'm here, he ain't got to worry."

"_Yeah, well. I miss you."_

Damn, her voice made me weak.

"_Ponyboy?"_

"I miss you too." I said softly. My fingers curled in the pay phone's metal cord, wishing it was her hair instead. A longing I hadn't felt since those happier moments on the ferris wheel swept over me, and I fought them.

"_Any chance you can come back over Christmas?"_

I let out a gasp of air I hadn't realized I had been holding. "I don't know. Things are really in bad shape here. Christmas is just too far off to consider right now. I'll look into it later. I promise."

Church bells struck over in the distance, bringing me back to reality. I had to get back home, now that I had my library work done. Looking down the street, I could see the big gray bus approaching.

"I have to go, Linda."

"_Okay. Thanks for calling. I, I really do miss you, Ponyboy."_

"Yeah, I really do miss you too."

XXX

"_Home team up by six as DeLaney makes another two-pointer! Now it's Hopkins on the rebound, up the court, blocked by Marcus as the ball bounces off the backboard and back into Curtis's hands...."_

"Go Pony!" Soda screamed. I grinned, admiring both my brothers. Soda was working up a sweat just watching the game while Ponyboy was out there hustling back and forth up and down the court. Coach was right, his track skills gave him the endurance to stay in and tough it out. He seemed to be having fun too, and that was even better. A small break from the realities of our lives.

The game went on for another hour, Pony taking a few breaks but obviously itched to get back in the action every time the coach had him sit out to catch his breath. The final buzzer sounded, Pony's team winning 77 to 62. Not a bad start to the season. Not bad at all. I caught his eye and gave him the thumbs up while Soda waved. Once Pony had disappeared behind the locker room doors, Soda sat down, shaking a bit while holding his side, panting harder than I expected him to.

"You okay?" I asked, noticing how pale he was.

"Yeah, just... probably shouldn't have yelled quite so much. Stings a bit." He looked up at me, smiling. "Quit worrying, I'm fine. Or will be, in a minute."

"Just rest." I looked around, the bleachers were clearing out quickly, the celebration moving outside and if I remembered right, off to the various pizza parlors or burger joints in town. We relaxed a bit, waiting. Pony was taking longer than usual.

"He played good, huh, Darry?" Soda asked, smiling through his pain.

I nodded. "Yep, he's quick. Never figured him for roundball, but he's doing good."

"Here he comes." Soda jutted his chin out, sitting up better. I knew he was faking for Pony's sake.

"Well, what'd ya think?" Pony gushed, his cheeks still flushed from all that exercise and his hair still wet from an obvious shower.

Odd, I thought he'd wait to take one at home, I knew how much he hated taking one here. Still, I grinned with genuine pride. "Great job, kiddo. Ready to go?"

He held his bag a bit tighter. "I was sort of hoping I could go out with the team for a bit. A celebration dinner kind of thing. I'll be home by curfew. Please?"

"Where's it gonna be held?"

"Dunno. C'mon, Darry, you used to go to your football celebrations all the time. Coach is paying. I'll be home by curfew, I promise."

"Oh, let him go, Darry." Soda chimed in, hit me softly in the stomach but grinned too much for me to get mad.

"Fine. Go on. Be home by curfew."

"Thanks, Darry! Bye Soda."

Pony turned and nearly ran out the door. I shook my head. Where he had the energy to keep going was beyond me.

XXX

I hated lying to Darry. Especially like this, when I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. But the situation at home was spiraling. I made it to the bus stop on time, boarded, slipped in my dime and sat down, hoping this would work out. In the back of my mind, I knew this was a foolish thing to do, but, well, foolish seemed to be my middle name half the time. Asking to work at Max's was dangerous in itself, but this new stunt I was working on was nearly suicidal in comparison.

It took nearly thirty minutes to get to the place, Rosewood's, an upscale restaurant that could have served royalty considering how fancy it was. Obviously what I was wearing wasn't befitting the busboy, as people everywhere gave me looks ranging from odd to disdain.

_So_, I thought, _this was the west side, all hoity toity to the extreme._

"Is Mr. Brock here?" I asked the woman standing by the door. She looked me up and down then pointed to a door.

"In there. You Curtis?"

I nodded.

"You're late." She snipped.

"Sorry, couldn't be helped."

She rolled her eyes and I hustled to the door, knocking first.

"Come in."

"Evening, Mr. Brock. I'm Ponyboy, Mr. Hampton referred me."

He looked me over. "Kid, how old are you?"

"Fifteen." I answered.

He snorted. "And you think you can do this? Hell, I must be desperate. What was my brother-in-law thinking when he suggested this?"

I just stood there, not knowing what to say.

"You got anything better to wear than that?"

I looked down, eying my jeans and sweat top. I had showered at the school, taking a chance for once and thankful no one bothered me.

"Yes, I was told to bring something nice. It's in my bag."

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Fine, go change. You get one chance to impress me, kid. One chance only. If you're good, we'll talk. If not, I'll pay you the money I said I would and you _won't_ come back. Understood?"

I nodded.

"Bathroom's over there. Hurry up."

I changed into Tony's old suit and came back out, leaving my bag in his office. I was lucky, the suit fit me perfectly.

"Well, you do shine up like a new penny. Still, you need a haircut and could use a tie, but we'll discuss that if you can prove yourself talented enough. Come on, I'll show you. You got your own stuff?"

"Yes sir. I brought my own material, I can get more though."

He didn't say anything else to me, just led me through the crowd to the stage.

"Alright, kid. Go to it."

It was a beautiful grand piano, black and heavily polished. A spotlight reflected off it, making everything around it seem to glow. I didn't have time for nerves to interfere. Some of the patrons looked up at me, curious. I lifted the cover and sat at the bench, then started playing, hoping I wouldn't mess up. Since this was all on me, I went for the stuff I knew by heart, some classical pieces that were soft, just right for the atmosphere already in the restaurant. As the hour moved along, I tempered the keys with a few modern pieces, still keeping things soft to match the ambiance. What I didn't know, I made up, hoping no one saw me sweat through those parts. Mr. Brock watched for a bit right off stage, then backed away to the bar, keeping an eye on me. I looked up a few times, wondering what he thought of my playing, then decided if he liked it, great. If not, well, I'd done the best I could. It sounded good enough to me.

Two hours later, the last notes echoed off the strings and I closed the cover, a smattering of applause coming at me. I smiled, somewhat embarrassed and went back over to Mr. Brock.

"Well?"

He nodded with a smile. "You got talent, kid. I'll give you that. You're going to need more sheet music, holiday stuff. I'll see what I can dig up. Otherwise, get a haircut, buy a tie and be back here tomorrow night at seven. I can use you, seven till ten – my busiest hours; five bucks a night plus whatever tips you bring in. That sound okay?"

I thought about it, knowing Darry had the warehouse gig during those hours. My only obstacle was Soda, but I'd figure that out later. I'd hate cutting my hair, but I'd lived through worse. I nodded. "Sure thing, but only Monday through Thursday, and Saturday's too. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at seven."

He slipped a five in my hand and patted my shoulder. "Good, now get out of here."

I went and got my bag, changing back into my jeans then headed off for the bus.

XXX

_11:12_

I kept glancing at the clock, wondering who would get home first, Darry or Ponyboy. Darry'd dropped me off at home first then headed off to the warehouse to get a few hours in. He usually made it in around half past midnight. Pony, on the other hand, was still out and about, hopefully remembering his promise to be in by his curfew. I hoped he'd remembered. Darry wasn't going to be very forgiving if he was late – game or no game.

_11:17_

Footsteps on the walk got my attention.

"Hey," Pony said, closing the door behind him. Relief flooded me.

"How was it?" I asked.

He took his bag to his room, calling out behind him. "Good. Went to the Pizza Pit, hung out. You know, the usual."

I got up and followed him to his room.

"Go dancing?"

"Huh?"

He looked at me, stunned. I laughed. "Did you go dancing? Ain't that what they do at the Pit? Play the juke box and dance on the floor until the food's ready?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, I didn't. You know me, two left feet. Besides, there's only one girl I wanna dance with, and she lives too far away."

I raised my eyes to that one, but let it slide. He stripped down and pulled on his sweats and a pair of socks, then headed to the bathroom.

"I'm beat. You got any plans tomorrow afternoon?" he asked in passing.

"Steve and me are headed to the races. My last night with nothing to do before I start my rehab at the Y. Doc won't let me work, but that don't mean I gotta sit around here and mope about it. You wanna go?"

"No. I'm going to the library. Got lots of stuff to research. Term paper and all coming up before the holiday break."

I nodded, remembering those days. I stayed as far away as I could get from term papers and anything having to do with them.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "That sounds like loads of fun. If you change your mind, let me know in the morning."

"Yeah, sure."

He held his toothbrush in his hand, an odd look on his face. It was as if he wanted to say something more, but didn't.

"Everything okay?"

That snapped him out of it. He blinked, loaded his toothbrush and lathered his teeth. "Yup."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	35. Connections

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 35

**Connections**

XXX

"What the heck happened to your head?" Steve quipped, nearly laughing.

I looked over at Pony as he came in the door, doing a double take myself. Seems his out-of-the-blue trip to the barber shop today ended with a very not-so-Ponyboy-like cut. It didn't even look like my brother beneath that do. His hair was so short, there wasn't any grease in it. It even seemed shorter than it had been when he'd come back from Windrixville, and none of us _ever_ thought he'd go to that extreme again.

"Don't ask." Pony answered.

"Did you fall asleep in the chair?" Two-Bit teased with glee.

"No, I didn't. I just wanted something that wouldn't need a trimming for a while, is all."

"I appreciate your cost- cutting help, Pone," I said gently, "but you ain't got to go _that_ short. In a year when it grows back out, don't do that again." I couldn't help joining in the fun, if only for a moment. Pony rolled his eyes and started to his room, but I caught the hood of his shirt and pulled him back. "Come here, I gotta talk to you a minute."

The guys cleared out while Soda sat against the edge of the table and Pony leaned against the fridge.

"You know I'm gonna be putting in more hours at the warehouse, which means I ain't gonna be getting in until close to midnight for a while. Soda's got his rehab stuff to go to also, so he ain't gonna be home when you get out of school."

"I'll be in around eight or so." Soda interjected.

"You gonna have a problem with all this?"

He looked at us and shook his head. "I know you gotta work, Dar. And Soda's got his thing to do too. It's fine. I ain't no kid. I know to do my homework and make dinner and not get in trouble."

"Good, I'm counting on it. Hopefully, Soda can get back to work in mid-December and I'll be able to let up on some of my work hours. Until then, it's just gonna be tight around here for a while. You understand, right?"

"Sure, Darry. I got it."

Odd, he didn't seem as bummed as I thought he'd be about it. Still, I let him go. I nodded and he disappeared into his room again.

XXX

I got in just after eleven, thanks to one of the delivery trucks breaking down just out of Oklahoma City. The driver wouldn't be able to get it repaired until morning, so my boss sent us all home. It was a welcome relief, even though the missing extra hour would put a damper on my pay.

The house was oddly quiet when I got in. Soda sat on the couch watching some nonsense on the set, Pony nowhere around.

"Hey Soda. Where's the other half of trouble?"

"Library," he answered without looking up.

"Library? Sodapop, it's after eleven. The library closes at ten!"

"All I can say is what his note said. It's on the table by the covered pot of stew he made."

I found the note. _Gone to the library and then over to work on my free throws. Be home before curfew. P._

"He's still got an hour," Soda's voice broke into my thoughts. "He ain't messed up yet so what's the worry?"

"It's my job to worry." I mumbled as I looked out between the blinds into the darkness. Dead leaves were carried down the street as the winds picked up, storm clouds were approaching.

"Well, this is one job you ain't getting paid to do, so stop putting in overtime. You'll only end up with an ulcer. He'll be home soon. He's got that term paper to do and you know how consumed he gets when he's reading. Anyway, he's probably already on his way home."

"Maybe I ought to go look for him. It looks like it's about to rain."

Soda groaned so loud even I heard it. "He's fifteen, Darry. Give him some space."

"Soda, I _know_ he's fifteen, but he needs to be more respons....."

The door opened and Ponyboy came in, looked at us both then headed toward his bedroom.

"Get enough research done?" I asked with a bit more sarcasm than I meant to as he passed by me. He turned to look.

"Huh?"

"The library? At this hour?" I asked, his note in hand.

"My paper's on light waveforms. It's complicated and I needed the extra research. I ain't late or nothing, am I? I even made dinner so neither of you would have to."

He had me there. "No, you ain't late, and I appreciate you cooking, I just wasn't expecting you to be out. Where's your game tomorrow?"

"Over at Sandhills. You going?"

"No, can't. I'm due at the warehouse tomorrow. Sorry, kiddo."

He shrugged. "It's just another exhibition game, so it don't count anyway. How bout you, Soda?"

"Sorry, Pony. Darry'll have the truck so I won't have a ride. Besides, I've got rehab to get to, then I told Steve I'd hang with him for a bit over at the DX now that he's back to work. Good luck though."

"Thanks."

He paused a second and went to his room, shut the door and turned on his radio.

"Great, off he goes to disappear again."

Soda looked at me and quietly laughed. "Darry, I swear, you're trying to find stuff to hold against him. He's home, now cut it out."

I rolled my eyes. First his hair, now his behavior. It's like a different person had moved in. Where my brother had gone and sent this replacement was beyond me. "Whatever."

XXX

I stood in line at the bank, nervous, feeling as if I were about to rob the place. Odd, it was just the opposite of what I planned to do. Both Soda and I knew Darry's account number so it wasn't any big deal to make a deposit, it was just rare that I had a deposit to make and he wasn't here to make it with me. I knew his account had to be down to single digits, and I also knew he also had some bills to pay. Envelopes were piling up with_ Overdue _and_ Past Due_ stamped on them.

"Yes, sir, how can I help you?" the teller asked.

"Deposit, please." I handed her the slip and my $28, she punched it in the machine and handed me a receipt.

"Thank you, have a great day!" she said with a smile.

I slid the receipt in my wallet with the other deposit I'd made, then caught the bus and headed home.

XXX

"Michelle?"

"Oh, hello Darry! I was just thinking of you. How are you?"

"Good. I was wondering if I could interest you in a movie this weekend? Cash in that raincheck."

"Mmmh, a movie. Now that sounds nice. What's playing?"

I looked at the listings in the paper, wondering what a woman would like. It had been so long since I had been to the movies, I wasn't even sure what was good or not. Most of the listings were for gory flicks or westerns, neither of which I thought she'd like.

"What would you like to see?" Even better, let her pick.

"Well, I know it's been out for a while now, but I still haven't seen it. You probably won't be interested, it's not exactly a 'guy' kind of movie."

"Trust me, with a movie nut like my youngest brother, I can manage through anything. What's your pleasure?"

"_The Miracle Worker_." The question in her tone was audible.

Okay, I can manage through _almost_ anything! For heaven's sake, that was a chick flick to the extreme! May as well cut off my nuts now and hand them over. I was so glad she couldn't see me right then, rolling my eyes and knuckling the wall. Still, I checked the listings and found it, amazingly still playing at a local theater. "I can pick you up at six and have a quick bite to eat before the show."

"Really? You don't mind then?"

"No, of course not." I lied. I _soooo_ lied.

"Wonderful! I can't wait."

"See you Saturday at six then."

"Looking forward to it. Bye."

I hung up the phone feeling like an idiot teenager again. Movies, popcorn, drinks. And dinner! Shoot! I had just enough to get us through the week until my construction check came in. What in the world was I thinking?

Not to mention I was dog tired, no..._ beyond_ dog tired, and common sense screamed at me to use the extra time to catch up on some very needed sleep, but I didn't listen, as usual. And the money I would spend on our date should have gone to pay for the phone bill or the water bill, or perhaps even Thanksgiving dinner stuff. We wouldn't be able to afford a turkey whether I went on a date or not, but the little I'd spend would've paid for something more vital to our needs. This was selfish, but I couldn't help it. I just really wanted to go. I wanted to feel human again, for a little while at least.

I crossed the street going into the bank and stood in line.

"Deposit and balance, please," I told the teller. She stamped my check and handed me a slip with the balance, but it wasn't until I got three steps away that I looked at it. _Huh?_ I went back to the lady, annoying the man who'd been behind me and was just about to start his own transaction.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Curtis?"

"Is this the right account?" I handed her back the slip. If she'd screwed up and deposited my money into someone else's account, that would royally screw me over while the bank investigated it to fix.

She checked over everything again and nodded. "Yes sir. Account 20233172, Darrel Shaynne Curtis, Jr. Is there a problem?"

"I'm... um, I wasn't expecting to have this much. Are you sure this is right?"

She smiled, looked it up again and nodded. "That's what we show. If there's a dispute, you can see our account aides over at a desk."

I nodded, sighed, and went to the desk. One of the men came over and took my information, researching my account.

"Looks like some deposits were made... one on the 12th for $28 and another on the 5th for $18, not including today's deposit, of course. Is there a problem?"

"Who made the deposits?"

"That, sir, I can't say. We only keep record of the deposits, not the depositors. Do you want us to put a hold on your account?"

Great, _now_ what? "No, that... that won't be necessary. Thanks." I couldn't afford to freeze up all my money right now.

As I wound my way around the grocery store later, getting what we needed before heading home, I couldn't get my head around where the money had come from. Maybe Soda would have some answers, but that would have to wait until later when I saw him again. I had to get out to the warehouse right after putting all this up, and Pony should be off to his game by now.

XXX

"Ma, what's the problem?"

Her eyes looked at me but she seemed miles off. Her coffee sat in the cup untouched though she stirred it slowly, one revolution after another, as if she'd forgotten it was there.

"Ma?" She had the same expression on her face as she had when she told us Grandma had died a few years ago. I didn't know her that well and Karen had never met her, but she was Mom's mother and it had hurt her deeply; but we were out of grandparents now, so what could possibly have happened?

"Two-Bit, I got a call today, from Ted."

Whoa! Hold up, hold everything! "From … _Dad?_"

She nodded. "Yes, from your father. He was wanting … he asked if he could come home … to see you and Karen … over Thanksgiving."

I got up from the chair so fast it fell over. "No."

"Two-Bit, he's your father and wants to see you and Karen...."

"I said _no_. I want nothing to do with him."

She sighed. "I had a feeling you'd feel this way."

"How could I not? Ma? After everything he'd put you through? He left you, left _us_! Karen was just a squirt, I was a teenager. It was hard enough dealing with everything else, but we managed. Don't think I've always been blind to how hard you had it - I was here, I saw. He's got nerve wanting to come back now. No, Ma. _No_. Let him spend Thanksgiving in whatever hole he's been in the last several years."

"He has a right to see you both, you're his kids."

"I'm legally an adult, Ma." I said in anger.

"You're living under my roof, Keith."

_Damn_. We stared at each other, neither giving in for a span of several seconds. Then she blinked and looked down at the same time I turned my head. I righted my chair and went behind her, rubbing her shoulders and neck, feeling the tension in them.

"Why are you gonna let him hurt you all over again?" I asked softly.

"I won't. I'm not letting him back in the house for anything more than a visit and dinner; but Karen's still just a teenager. She's asked about Ted a few times and she _should_ see him if she wants to; and he _said_ he wants to mend old wounds too. He's still her father, just as he's yours. I'll understand if you don't want to see him, but don't deny her that chance."

"And just _when_ is this family reunion gonna happen?"

"Two weeks, Thanksgiving. Just... if you're not going to be here, please let me know. I won't fight with you trying to get you to come over; you're a grown man, but I'd like to know what to expect."

"Mom, if Dad's coming over, you'll never know what to expect."

She gave a weak laugh and placed her forehead on her palm, her arm leaning on the table.

"You're right about that. By the way, I love you, too, son."

XXX

"Soda, you been making deposits in my account since you've been out of work?"

I looked up from what I was doing, my back arched in a weird position as I lay across my bed trying to slather the antibiotic ointment on my healing incision. "No, where would I get the dough from? Besides, I'd have told you. Why?"

"Here, give that to me." He took the ointment from me and squeezed some on my side near my back where I couldn't reach. "Someone has, and I thought it was you."

"Shoot, Darry, if I had money, you know I'd have given it to you, or bought stuff we needed with it. How much you talking? Five dollars, ten?"

"Nearly fifty."

"Holy Moses! Fifty bucks?!" I shot straight up and stared at him, shocked.

"Nearly. Well, if you ain't doing it, then I guess the bank messed up. I'm going to have to freeze my account and pay everything in cash until I get this figured out, so don't be sending out any checks."

"How much is freezing the account gonna cost?"

"Nothing. It's an inconvenience, but if they messed up the deposits it'll end up costing us big time if I accidentally spend money that ain't mine."

"Screw that, lets go spend it before they notice!" I was already thinking of all sorts of stuff we could get with that money, but Darry gave me one of his looks. I sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine, you're right... if it ain't ours...." Darry sometimes was _too_ honest.

Hard to believe he was the one who swiped the Moonpies right out of the corner grocer's for us back when he was in tenth grade. I grinned at those memories – I set off the diversion, quietly moving the tomatoes around on the angled display so they'd all roll onto the floor, then called for help from the grocer to stop the avalanche. Yup, Darry used to be fun back then. Now, he was all business and worry. I took the ointment back and slid on a shirt. "How's it looking back there?" I tried to look in a mirror, but was only giving myself a crick in my neck.

"Not bad. Looks like a big fishing hook got ya, but otherwise, not bad at all. I'm sure you can make up lots of stories about it later, something more exciting than a plain old gas station blowing up around you. Anyway, where_ is_ our wayward brother hanging at these days?"

I laughed. "It's Saturday, right? Who knows. Library, movies, roller rink maybe. Why?"

"The roller rink?" He made a face. I laughed.

"That's where all the girls are, Darry. C'mon, man, you ain't dead!"

He shook his head, ignoring my suggestion. "He's suddenly found lots of stuff to do these days. I hardly see him home anymore."

"Yeah, for the longest time, neither of us thought he'd get out of the house again. Now, he's rarely here. Maybe he's finally over it, you know - losing them and all." I looked at one of the framed pictures he'd left on his desk in my room, the one of the seven of us taken just months before that miserable night; him and Johnny standing next to each other trying not to laugh as Dal stood behind them, the rest of us gathered around - all of us wearing our typical 'eat shit' look just as Mrs. Mathews snapped the picture. It was one Pony still had a hard time looking at but clearly hadn't forgotten. Despite the fact that I rarely touched it, the frame never had dust on it.

Darry looked at me, skeptically. "You think so? Honestly?"

"Maybe." I put the picture back with a shrug, not knowing for sure how or when Pony would ever fully get over that loss. "Hey, ain't you got a date tonight?" I asked, changing the subject. He grinned and turned away, obviously embarrassed.

"It ain't like that, Soda. It's a movie."

"Oh please! I ain't that naive, Darry. It's been a year, but I haven't forgotten the basics. Dinner and a movie is a date in anyone's book."

"Well, whatever you call it, it's a welcome change from pounding nails and hauling boxes for hours on end. I don't know what time I'm gonna be back, just make sure Pony's in before midnight. And if he ain't, don't cover for him. Game night was yesterday, he's got no excuse tonight to be out late. Grades or no grades, I still need to know where he's at and who he's with."

"Well, if things get interesting, don't hurry home on our account." I waggled my eyebrows to get my meaning across. He raised his hand to give me a brotherly whack, then must have remembered I'm still on the injured list. He settled for a smirk.

"If you weren't all busted up, I'd teach you to try to rattle me. I ain't gonna be out all night. Do me a big favor and stay home. I need to know Pony's gonna have someone here to keep him in the house after his curfew. Got me?"

I grinned. "Of course, Dar. I'll make sure our 'innocent' little brother won't stray from the straight and narrow. I don't know what you're so worried about, as long as Linda's in Hollis, there's no danger. Now, you go have some fun!"

"Do _not_ get me started on her. And as far as _fun_ goes, I wouldn't exactly call _The Miracle Worker_ 'fun'. It's barely a step down from voluntary torture! This had better be worth it."

I laughed. "Nobody's making you go! Besides, just think of all the interesting sign language you can have with her. Trust me, her hands are very gentle and soft. I should know." And I did. She was the best nurse I'd ever had, but with me she was totally professional. I hoped she was a little_ less_ professional with Darry. He needed a little fun.

He got up but turned to look at me as he got his coat. "You are a sick and twisted puppy, you know that?"

"And proud of it, too. Now get out of here!"

XXX

"Evening, Mr. Brock." I said as I finished yet another three hours on the piano.

"Ponyboy, evening! I've gotten you some holiday sheet music I thought you could play, but practice them at home first. I must say, my numbers have been higher since you've been playing for me. Higher revenue is always a good thing. That brother-in-law of mine sure knew what he was talking about, all right. I usually hate eating crow, but this time I'm happy to do it. Say, any way I could get you to play on Thanksgiving?"

I smiled as I pulled my tip money from the margarita glass on the piano top. "That's real swell of you to say and all, but I'd have to say no. My family wants me home." In all honesty, I don't think I could find a cover excuse to allow me to come out here. Darry's bound to be off, there wouldn't be a game at school, and I'd have no way to get home either, especially since the buses all shut down early.

"How bout staying an extra hour every night when you do come?"

"I can't sir. The buses won't get me back in time. I'm sorry."

"You're good, kid. Shrewd, but good. Okay, enough gibber jabber, off with you."

I went to the back and changed into the still-dark jeans Mrs. Nixon had bought me, knowing better than to leave the East side in my usual West side attire. Once on the bus, I felt better. Not exactly safe, but better. I was grateful the stop was right outside the restaurant that I wasn't _officially_ working at.

I boarded the bus and rode it to the transfer station, then had to sprint to make it to my connecting bus, the one that would take me to my street. Once safely back on my side of town, I could relax again. At that point, Darry was my biggest obstacle. And yet, I was only trying to help him by doing all this in the first place.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	36. Dinner And A Movie

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 36

**Dinner And A Movie**

XXX

"I'm sorry," I finally said, forcing myself to leave the fork alone that I'd been nervously turning over and over, unaware I was doing it until I caught her humored eyes watching me. "It's been ages since I've been out with someone who's main interest _wasn't_ cars."

She smiled, laughing a little as she squirmed some in her chair.

"Now that's hard to believe. You've honestly not gone out in how long?"

I looked at her, sitting up a bit taller as I calculated it in my head. "Um, maybe two years? Definitely not since my folks passed on. You?"

The waitress arrived with the plates. We waited for her to leave before resuming our conversation.

"Oh goodness, not since nursing school. I had a boyfriend back then, but he didn't understand how serious I was about my studies. It was a lot of work for me but I dived in head first, determined to be the best I could be. I didn't realize how I kept brushing off his calls and repetitively forgetting our dates; then one day near graduation I looked up and he was gone. He was a nice guy, I hope he's forgiven me my absentmindedness."

"He should have understood." I mused. "College isn't easy."

"Have you gone?" .

Now I was embarrassed. "No," I sighed, "I haven't. I'd planned on it right after high school, but my folks were killed and my kid brothers needed me. I was the only thing that stood between them and foster care. I couldn't do that to them. Even now, as hard as we sometimes have it, I still think I made the right decision."

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. What would you major in, if you could go right now?"

I smirked. "Engineering."

"Said like a man with determination. When are you going to go?"

"One day, after Ponyboy is off on his own. If I'm not too old, broke or incapable. Just not right now."

"And Sodapop?"

I looked at her, unsure.

"If I'm asking questions that are too personal...." she said, backing off.

"No, it's not that. Soda... Soda_ quit _school. He said he wasn't smart enough, and maybe I pressured him a bit too much, expecting high grades when I should have realized he's not like Ponyboy and me; but he _might_ have made it. _Barely,_ but there was that chance, until he gave up. He gave me every excuse in the book and made a few up along the way as to why he should quit. I argued with him until I was blue in the face, but he did it anyway. He threw in the towel not long after our parents died, taking a full time job at the DX to do the one thing he loves to do and is good at – work on cars. He's a good mechanic. In the end, he was right – we'd needed his pay to get by."

"The same DX that blew up?" The look on her face was shock, but settled back after I shook my head.

"Nope, it was another station in the DX chain that his boss had him at that day. His station is still going."

"And how's he doing now, since getting out of the hospital? I'm asking not as a nurse, but as a friend."

"He's doing better. Gets tired fast, gets winded easily. His knee bothers him but he won't let on. He's doing that rehab stuff, doing laps in the pool which helps his leg and his lungs. He'll be fine, in time."

"I know he will. I remember how stubborn he was." I looked at her sharply, but she grinned and shook her head. "A _good_ stubborn, I meant. He's a good kid. Both your brothers are."

"Thanks." I finished my dinner and got the waiters attention for the check. It came, I paid, and before long, we were standing in line for _The Miracle Worker._

As the lights went down in the theater, I settled in for a long, boring show. Anne Bancroft may be eye candy to some guys, but she just wasn't high on my list of exciting women. Besides the whacks Patti Duke gave everyone during her blind and mute temper tantrums, there really wasn't a whole lot of action. It was surprising when I felt eyes on me and turned to see Michelle smiling at me in the dark.

"What?" I whispered.

"Are you always this stolid?" she whispered back.

I looked at her, confused. "Pardon me?"

She snickered. "Sorry, I mean, _relax_... have some fun. _Blink _maybe."

I grinned. I reached over and took her hand and smiled. Fine, if I had to see this, at least it was with someone who could make it worthwhile.

Two hours later the lights came back up.

"Was it that bad?" she teased.

"It was okay. Patti could have whacked a few more people in it though."

"_Darry!_"

"Come on, lets go."

I walked her to my truck and turned on the heater.

"This was fun. I had a really nice time. One day, I hope we can go out and have _you_ enjoy it. What kind of stuff do you like to do?" She asked as she settled in next to me.

"I like to ski, but haven't done that in a long while either. Too busy."

She smiled at me, understanding in her eyes. "While you're trying to give your brothers a life, don't forget to give yourself one, too."

"Good advice, I'll have to remember it."

I headed towards her apartment, located in a real nice part of town. I recognized it, having done work over here before.

"See that building over there, the one with the small hedges?" I pointed as we neared.

"Yes, what about it?"

"I roofed it a couple of months ago."

She looked at the roof appreciatively. "You did? Ya know, I think I remember it. Trucks all over the street, blocking traffic forever and a day!" she teased again then settled back. "It looks good. You do good work."

"Thank you. I may not know how to save lives or nothing _that_ important, but I can keep a roof from leaking. Help keep houses warm in the winter and cooler in the summer. That makes a difference, at least to the people inside it."

"Of course it does, Darry. And it _is _important. It takes skill to know how to do that right. I wouldn't have the foggiest idea how to do that."

I pulled up in front of her place, got out and opened her door to walk her to her apartment.

"Want to come in for a while? Warm up some?"

I debated it but shook my head. "No thanks. I've had a really nice time, movie and all. I'd, uh, I'd like to see you again, another time, if that's possible."

"I'd like that. I'd like that a whole lot."

"Great. I'll call you in a few days, when I have my schedule nailed down better." _Kiss her or don't kiss her? Damn, I was out of practice._

"Night, Darry," she crooned as she went inside and closed the door.

_Too late, you idiot._ "Night." I headed back to my truck and headed home.

XXX

"Darry home yet?" Pony asked as he came in, backpack thick again.

I looked at the clock, 11:25. "Nope. He's out on a date, remember?"

"Oh yeah. Right. How was the pool?"

"Not bad. Tiring, but fun at the same time. Maybe you can come with me, you're a good swimmer, you can be my lifeguard!"

"Oh, well … can't. Not with all my homework and stuff. Thanks though." He headed off to his room, shut his door and flipped on his radio, the volume kept low. It occurred to me then that the time, anywhere between eleven and eleven thirty, was getting predictable.

"Hey Pone..." I said as I barged in his room without knocking, "where've you been hanging out at lately?" I'd left for the pool between three and four, but not once have I seen him at home after school let out. Even on non-practice or game days, which was weird.

He finished doing whatever he was doing in his closet and shut the door, stripped off his shirt and jeans and slid on his sweats. "Nowhere. Just studying at the library and practicing my jumpshot. End of first term is coming up and I can't get any studying done around here, it's too noisy."

_Too noisy? Who the heck is home?_ Something about the way he wouldn't look at me in the eye anymore made me uneasy.

"Library closes at ten, kiddo." I reminded him.

"Well the basketball courts don't close, and the lights stay on until midnight."

I rolled my eyes in disbelief that he'd expect me to buy that story. No one stays out playing basketball in the cold, dark Tulsa streets alone. Still, I let him carry along.

"How was your game yesterday?"

"We won. 71 to 68. Nearly lost, but Jackson managed a few key three pointers. Too bad you couldn't be there."

"Yeah, I hate missing your games. You ain't peeved that we ain't able to show up, are you? I mean, I _want _to be there, but if I don't do this rehab thing I'll never get my knee back in shape, and if I don't get my knee back in shape I won't get cleared to drive again. Besides, Darry's got to have the truck so he can put in the extra hours at both his jobs."

He pulled some papers out of his notebook and headed to the living room, sat down at the piano and lifted the cover. I followed him. "Nah, I know everyone's busy. It's fine."

I watched as he started playing _Adeste Fideles_ without any hesitation, startling me some. It was rare that any of us caught him playing, let alone having him just plop down at the piano like this. He hadn't played - that I knew of anyway, since last summer at that fancy restaurant in Hollis. He wasn't rusty like I thought he'd be, either.

"That's pretty good, Pone." I said absentmindedly while I watched.

"Thanks," he mumbled, concentrating hard on the sheet music in front of him. I watched as his fingers navigated the keys flawlessly, his eyes rarely looking down. He shook his head. "I've got to tune this tomorrow, more keys are out than in."

"You remember how to do that?" I asked skeptically. Even I didn't remember the last time the piano was tuned up. I could tune anything with an engine, but a piano was out of the question. Considering the fact that Pony rarely played anymore and neither Darry nor me touched it, I was a bit more than skeptical.

"Yeah. I can do it. I saw the tuner in the closet. I'll get it tomorrow."

_Uh huh._

He moved from one Christmas song to another, never really stopping but blending and merging the notes from one song into another in a solid stream. I was amazed, his fingers never stopped going. Even out of tune, it sounded great.

"How do you _do_ that?" I finally asked, totally mesmerized.

He laughed. "What? _Play_? Oh c'mon Sodapop, you know the answer to that. Mom taught me, remember?"

"Yeah well, you've gotten considerably better since Mom and you... I mean, since she was here." I said, tripping over my words some. I knew Pony was still real sensitive about our folks.

He smiled. "Thanks, Soda."

His fingers flew up and down the keys for another twenty minutes straight then stopped. Headlights shined on the windows as a familiar door creaked open and shut outside. Pony got up, took the sheet music with him and closed the cover over the keys. He stretched as he looked at me.

"How _is _your knee, anyway?"

"Oh, fine. Sore, but better."

"What are you guys still doing up?" Darry asked as he came in.

"Just hanging out, listening to tunes and stuff. How was your date?" I winked at Pony, who had turned to look at me, an odd look on his face that faded away as Darry hung up his coat and pulled off his shoes.

"Well, the movie wasn't anything I'd recommend, but the food was good and the company even better. And that's all either of you are gonna weasel out of me about that, so don't bother to ask."

"What movie did you see?" Pony asked as he crossed the living room and sat down.

Darry rolled his eyes. _"The Miracle Worker._"

"Sucker!" I said with a sneer. Pony's response was a bit different.

"Oh yeah? The one with Patti Duke and Anne Bancroft? I thought it was pretty good. It's gotta be hard being a sighted verbal actor having to play a deaf mute. You have to rely totally on your acting skills and pray your performance meets expectations."

Darry just looked at him while I sat there amused. Obviously Pony thought more of the movie than Darry did, but then again, it was sort of expected that Pony'd know more about_ any _movie playing. The kicker was that none of us had known he'd gone off to the movies in months.

"Ponyboy, when did you go see it?"

"I didn't. I saw the preview back when Two-Bit took me to the MegaMall, then I went and read about Helen Keller in the library. She's met many presidents and even graduated from Radcliffe. Ya know, she still lives up in Connecticut."

I almost laughed. Darry's expression was floored. Totally speechless. Leave it to Ponyboy to find out stuff like that in the library.

"You finished your report yet?" Darry finally asked.

"Not yet. I still have to type it, but I have the draft done."

"Lordy, Pone. You had all day. What did you do?"

"More research, studied for some tests coming up, worked on my jump shot. Ran a bit. Nothing major."

Darry glanced at me, I had to shrug. "Well, fine. It's late. You guys eat dinner?"

"I had a sandwich. Pony?"

"I had a sandwich too, I just took it with me to eat at the library. I ain't hungry."

"Uh huh. Well, I can lead you to water, but I can't make you drink. Okay, guys, I'm tired and I got to work tomorrow at the warehouse. I'm going to bed."

"Night, Darry." I called. Pony echoed my words.

Everyone headed off into a different direction, Darry to his room, Pony to the bathroom and me to turn off all the lights. As I sank back in bed a few minutes later, Darry softly knocked on my door.

"Yeah?"

He came in and shut it, then spoke real low. "I just wanted you to know, I froze my account today so if you need any money, you won't be able to get it from my account. I have enough cash to pay the bills and stuff until they get the mess straightened out at the bank. There was another mix up, another $22 got deposited this week. I took enough out to get us by; you need any?"

"I can use five dollars if you can spare it, but don't if it's gonna put the bills in jeopardy. You gonna tell Pony?"

He shook his head. "No. Ain't no reason to worry him about it."

"Um Darry? I didn't want to bother you with this, but what are we gonna do about Thanksgiving?" I hated to ask, knowing the holidays were always a rough time for us – financially and emotionally.

Darry sighed. "I dunno. It's gonna be slim this year. Real slim. We'll make do. At least we're together. All of us. I'll take that over any present or meal."

I understood what he meant. If the station hadn't blown up, I would be in Vietnam. It almost made me sick to think of it. Darry wouldn't watch the news anymore either, the reminders of what nearly was were still raw. I nodded, not finding any words to say.

"Night, Soda. Sleep well."

"You too, Darry."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	37. Prying

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 37

**Prying**

XXX

"Ted."

"Beth," he said in an uncomfortable greeting. "So, how've you been?"

Holiday songs played softly on the jukebox. It's late, and except for the drunk in the corner, they are the only two customers in the joint besides the teenage waitress who looked liked she was in her fifth month, and the busboy who doubled as the cook when orders came in. Elizabeth - Mrs. Mathews to some, Beth to others, Mom to a select few; was on her way to work but had agreed against her inner voice to meet him.

She eyed him warily. "Fine. I've managed."

He sat hunched over, not able to look at her as she sat across from him in a booth. "I left you in a lurch all those years ago, I know. I'm sorry bout that, but telling you I was leaving wouldn't have made it any easier, either."

She sipped her coffee and watched him, holding back the urge to hurl the scalding liquid at his face. He had no idea how leaving her with two kids to feed and no money to do that with had hurt.

"So, uh, how're the kids?"

"Keith is fine, as is Karen. They're both still in school and are both doing well."

He was silent a moment, fiddling with a sugar packet. Inwardly, she laughed at him. In two seconds she had already sized him up. He was weak then and still hadn't changed. Weak and cowardly, always running from any problem, never there for her to count on.

Why she ever married him in the first place was a mystery. Oh yeah... that night almost twenty- two years ago in the back of his Ford. He'd said he'd pull out, and he had ... just a little late. Two months later, puking in a school toilet, she knew what it meant; all her dreams were over.

They were married quietly by some man her father knew and lived in a run down, roach filled apartment until he finished high school. A few months later, he got a job working third shift at the newspaper – as a janitor. A few more months after that, she was holding their newborn son watching life seemingly pass her by.

While all he'd ever gotten was his high school diploma, it was still more than she had and he threw it in her face every time. _"You need me, Beth, I'm all you got!" _For the longest time, she thought he was right.

Then one day, years later, during another of his verbal abuse tirades, she'd had enough. His hateful words suddenly rang empty. She didn't cry, didn't seem to even care. She'd stood there with her chin up and shoulders squared, glaring at him with defiance in her eyes. Enough was enough, and she'd endured years of 'enough' already.

For once, a look of fear had formed in Ted's eyes. He'd taken one uncertain step back, then a moment later took another one. A long, stormy silent pause later and he'd turned, walking out the door. She'd thought he'd be back like he usually was, but until that phone call a few weeks ago, she hadn't heard a peep out of him. She was finally on her own, now with two small kids to manage, their daughter having come along nearly eight years after Keith.

It had been hard and many times she'd wanted to give up, but the faces of her kids sleeping in their beds drove her on to do whatever she could to give them a better life. It was an uphill battle from the start. She hadn't finished school, had no skills, and with two kids in tow, almost no one would give her a chance. Then she met Beverly Curtis, who's three boys became Keith's closest friends, and Samantha Scott, who looked after Karen for her while she worked. The tightness of the community ten years ago had allowed her to keep her job and slowly etch out a life for her family, but it had been a struggle the whole way. Now with Ted looking at her, she knew he'd never grasp how strong a woman she now was after everything he'd either put her through or left her with to handle on her own.

"Have you given any thought to my request? I'd really like to see them. Let them know their old man still loves them."

She glowered at him but kept it civil. He had no idea what love was.

"You can come over, that day and that day only, but I can't guarantee the reception you'll have. I won't sleep with you, so don't even think it. You're there to see your kids, and I can't promise Two.. _Keith_ will be there. He's already told me he's not willing to come, and I won't make him. He's a grown man now." _A better man than you ever were,_ she added silently.

He nodded. "Fine. I understand. Thanks, Beth." He got up to leave, getting the waitresses attention as he did so. He slipped her something from his pocket and walked out the door, disappearing into the night.

"Everything okay?" The waitress asked, fatigue of her own registering all over her face.

"Fine. How much?"

"Ten cents," she answered. Mrs. Mathews pulled out her coin purse and handed her the money then headed off to work. Thanksgiving wasn't far away, which meant more customers were at the bar - and every minute she sat here, money was going to the other girls; those with curvier hips who also lacked the crows feet on their faces.

XXX

As I stood in line with nothing to do, my thoughts wandered back to last Sunday.

Soda had tried to help me tune the piano, but seeing as how he A) didn't know how to tune a piano, B) kept asking what my rush was – which I couldn't tell him even if I wanted to, and C) couldn't bend down to adjust the hammers and pedals, I basically did it on my own. It took the better part of the day, leaving very little practice time before Darry got back in, but when I was done it chimed with clarity again. I think Mom would have been proud.

I was still amazed I was pulling this off. Not that this was exactly easy. Twice now I had seen Two-Bit near my bus stop when I was supposed to be getting on, and once I saw Steve and his girl swapping spit close to where I was supposed to be getting off. I was constantly running – either _to _the bus, _from_ the bus or_ between_ buses at the transfer station. Only one thing was certain, I'd be ready for track in the spring!

"Next, please," the lady said with consternation. Obviously she'd called on me at least once already with me not paying attention. I stepped forward and handed her the deposit slip and the money.

"Sorry, Mr. Curtis, but the account is temporarily closed." She said, handing me back the stuff.

I looked at the teller, confused. "Why?" Anxiety built up, wondering if Darry had overdrawn his account.

"I'm not at liberty to say. You're on the account as an authorized member, but not as the primary holder."

I could tell by the look on her face she wasn't going to budge, so I pocketed the money I'd intended to deposit and headed home, bugged by everything. I wanted to help, but I knew if I gave Darry the money, he'd only get upset – then put an end to my helping out. Now what? I walked a bit, passing a few offices on the way. I looked around, watching cars and people passing for a while, thinking of what to do when a billboard for the electric company we used got my attention - and I smiled. If I couldn't put the money in his account, I could put the money toward the bills directly. Genius!

"Payment, please," I said to the woman at the desk of Tulsa General Electric fifteen minutes later.

"Account number?"

"I don't know the number, but I want to pay some on the bill coming up. Can I do that?"

"Sure, you can prepay, if that's what you wish to do. It will come back as a credit on your next bill and you'll only owe the balance. Is that what you want to do?"

"It'll go against the next bill... right?" I had no idea what she'd just said. Obviously, she thought I was stupid, as she rolled her eyes and nodded. "Yeah, then that's what I want to do."

"Name the account is under?"

I gave her Darry's name and our address, she looked it up and took my payment. I had a lot of money, the tips were good and got better each night. I only gave her a little over half of what I had, knowing Darry'd notice if I paid off the whole bill. I got a receipt and put it in my wallet.

"Thanks," I said, leaving. At least the power would stay on another month.

XXX

It was finally the Saturday before Thanksgiving, but I was already looking forward to the break. I needed sleep.

It was a busy couple of weeks, where the days marred from one to another, and what I was doing got lost in the shuffle. I was at school during the days, trying to remember what chemistry lesson I was taking and try to make it make sense before it muddled with calculus and blurred Spanish. Half the time I wasn't sure if I was coming or going, I only remember trying desperately not to get caught.

I rode the bus to Rosewood's Monday thru Thursday, usually after going to basketball practice and then up to the public library to study. I wasn't lying about anything I was doing after school, I just didn't tell anyone _everything_ that was going on. If my grades fell, Darry would know and I'd be done for. If I at least managed to keep my grades up, he shouldn't complain quite so much when he found out. And I knew he_ would_ find out._ Eventually_. He wasn't dumb, just too busy working all the time to notice anything going on right now.

I also paid a bit on all our bills, going to various offices all over town. I paid enough to make good dents, but never paying off the whole amounts. I pocketed what was left over, hoping at some point to slip it in Darry's wallet if he ever left it laying on the counter again.

Friday I had my games - away or home, it didn't matter. Sometimes the guys showed up, sometimes they didn't. Darry never did.. not since the opener. I understood though.. he was working to keep our lights on and food on our table. If he missed my games, so what? At least I had a home to go back to.

Sunday was home time. Darry didn't put in hours at the warehouse so I couldn't skip out of the house easily. Besides, I had to show my face around the place sometime .. otherwise, they'd ask questions. That was the only day that sort of felt normal; we'd all sleep in, someone would cook, then we'd clean the house and roughhouse around a bit, albeit far less than our norm since Soda was still on the mend. It wasn't like our old days - when Darry'd clothesline me, holding me down while tickling me until I'd scream uncle, but at least I'd see him smile some. Worry seemed to cloud everything now.

Between school, basketball and Rosewood's, I was exhausted. Musical tunes played in my head when I was supposed to be listening to my teachers; and last week I'd missed several easy passes that ticked off my coach so badly he pulled me from the game for nearly ten minutes.

I was thankful this was only going to last another four weeks. I suddenly had a greater appreciation for how hard Darry worked.

The bus pulled up and I got on, riding on towards our neighborhood but getting off a few stops early at the grocers. We were nearly out of everything again, but there was no way I was going to shove any oatmeal down my throat if I could help it. I got a handbasket, knowing whatever would fit in it would fit in my backpack until I made it home.

I got some cereal, eggs, half a thing of milk (a whole gallon wouldn't fit) and some other staples; then went to the line. Once everything was paid for, I crammed it all in my backpack and headed home, carrying my books in my hands. Thankfully, no one was around at home, allowing me to put the stuff away without being noticed. I'd considered another trip back to the grocers once I had everything put up, but changed my mind. Darry would notice. Instead, I headed off to study and rest up. I'd have to split soon anyway to catch the bus over to Rosewood's.

XXX

"Hey Darry, did you get the milk?"

"No. Why, we need any?" he called from his room. I stared at the half gallon in the fridge. _Who would buy a half gallon of milk? _We go through it so fast, usually we get two gallons at a time. A half gallon was a tease!

"Uh, yeah... looks like it. So you _didn't_ get this?" I asked again, closing the fridge door and looked at him down the hall. He came to see what I was talking about.

"No, Sodapop, I didn't buy any milk. Maybe one of the guys did. Bout time they started replacing what they take. I ain't a soup kitchen. Ask Ponyboy, he should've been here today. Lord knows he's been spending every other minute of his time somewhere else all month. Where's he now?"

"No idea." I answered absentmindedly. The milk bothered me. It made no sense for anyone to get a half gallon. It was stupid and insignificant, but I couldn't get my head over it.

He looked at me, pulling on his boots. "Well, I gotta go to work. Hog tie him if you have to, but make him stay home tonight. I don't need him getting into trouble."

I looked at the clock, it was nearly seven. Something nagged at me, telling me Pony wouldn't be home until half past eleven; in fact, I was willing to bet on it. "Sure, Darry. As soon as he gets home, I'll park him in a chair and tie him to it. Is a hog tie anything close to a clove hitch or a square knot?"

Darry gave me a look that said _shut up_, and left.

XXX

"Michelle, what did you get?" Carmin asked me. I looked in the envelope and pulled out a slip. This was a stupid ritual, instead of just giving everyone the same Thanksgiving bonus like they did at Christmas, the hospital executives try to "guess" what each employee would like based off each department head's suggestion. Mine obviously thought I had no life; as for the third year in a row, I received a gift certificate for a book from the local bookstore.

I gave a half-hearted grin, knowing it was a _gift_, afterall. They didn't have to do this. Other nurses, nurses who were married and had children and therefore had no time, got the good stuff. I laid it down by my cup, disappointed as usual. "Gift certificate for a book at Sonnets And Spines. You?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed with genuine surprise as she pulled out her slip, "a gift certificate from Rosewood's! Have you eaten there?"

I shook my head. "No, it's a little too upscale for me to go to just to eat alone."

"Yeah, but how about that guy you were seeing?" Maxine teased me from across the table. I'd made the mistake of telling Carmine about my date, and she had let it loose around the department. She hadn't really meant to, she was just happy for me considering I hadn't really been the outgoing type. Wearing grandma's ring to keep it that way proved it well enough.

I blushed. "I only saw him once, and besides, he's busy working."

"Well, here," Carmine said, shoving the slip in my hand. "Take him out and have a good dinner. Now you have no excuse. It's paid for, all you two need to do is show up and eat."

"But this is _your_ gift..." I protested. She smiled and took my slip for the book.

"And now I have a book to read! Just what I wanted!"

I was speechless, looking at the two of them gang up on me like this. A call bell went off in one of my rooms and I got up.

"You guys are so gonna get me in trouble!" I grumbled with a smile.

"Just make sure he pulls your chair out and is nice to you, cause if he isn't, we'll fix him if he ever comes back to _our_ ICU!" Maxine teetered, nearly spilling her coffee.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	38. Jigsaw Pieces Coming Together

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 38

**Jigsaw Pieces Coming Together**

XXX

"Darry, phone!"

Soda put the receiver down and went back to making dinner. I had just gotten out of the shower, ready to dress and go out again to the warehouse for yet another few hours of moving boxes. Whomever it was, I didn't have time for idle chatter.

"Pony home yet?" I asked before picking the receiver up.

"Not yet," Soda answered.

Damn that kid brother of mine! It's gotten so I didn't even know what he looked like anymore. I'd catch a glance at him sleeping in his room after I got in from the warehouse, then see him again for a few minutes before he ran out the door for school, but that was about it. From that point on I was at work while he was at school all day, basketball practice in the afternoon, then off to various places to study well into the evening. He never seemed to be home for the few minutes I'd stop in between my jobs. Unless it was Sunday, I just never saw him. It seemed no one knew where he was but him.

"Hello?" I said into the receiver, obviously still fuming about family issues.

"Darry, is this a bad time?"

The soft sound of her voice registered and I stopped to regroup.

"Evening, Michelle. Sorry, it's not a bad time, just a busy one. What can I do for you?"

"I was wanting to know if I could steal you for an evening. Maybe tomorrow for dinner? My treat."

"Dinner? Gee, Michelle, that would be great, but...."

"Go! Darry, go to dinner with her! _Go_!" Soda hissed at me, motioning with his hands as if he was scooting me out the door already. I hesitated.

"But.... _what?_ Darry?"

"Sorry, Soda spilled something in the kitchen, snagging my attention. I'd love to. I can pay though...."

She laughed. "Well, it's not really _my_ treat, but my employers. The hospital gives its employees gift certificates for area restaurants, mine is for a place called Rosewood's. It's semi-formal, will that be a problem?"

I thought quickly … conjuring up my closet's contents in my mind. I had my court clothes, they'd work, and for once I could wear them to something of a happy event. "No, I'm sure I have a jacket and tie I can wear. Tomorrow?"

"Unless you want to go out Thanksgiving night, but I thought you'd be busy with your family then. I have to work the weekend after Thanksgiving and won't be able to see you. I'd uh, I'd _like_ to see you, if you're not busy or anything."

I smiled. "I'd like that too. Fine, dinner sounds great. How's six?"

"A little early. I made reservations for seven though." She laughed a bit. "I was hoping you'd say yes, so I went ahead and booked it. I know it's rather forward of me and I really hope you don't mind. Seems the place is booked up a lot lately. It's been hard getting in."

"No, that's fine. Seven sounds great. I'll pick you up at six thirty." Soda was smiling at me with a much too- happy grin; annoying me to no end. I tossed my shoe at him and he went back into the kitchen, out of reach of anything else I could toss.

"See you then, Darry." She hung up and I went to get my shoe back.

"You can stop radiating happiness now, Soda. It's just a dinner date, that's all."

"A _second _dinner date. Gonna take flowers?"

I was ready to ram my fist down his throat if that's what it took to shut him up, but decided against it. I just got my fist out of a cast, and he was still having soreness. "No, it's just _dinner._ We're not dating, so flowers would be a bit much, don't you think? Strike that, I don't want to know what you think. And _what _are you making?" The boiling noodles in the pot were blue. _Blue_! What the heck? "When are you gonna learn to stop screwing with the food?"

"It's called adventure. Have some, live a little. Pony eats it."

"That's because it's all that stands in the way between him and starvation. Speaking of starvation, go get grocery for me since you ain't going to rehab tonight. Have one of the guys take you." I looked at my watch and turned to leave. "I don't have time for this, I gotta go to work. When Ponyboy gets home, tell him I want to know just where he's been hiding at these days. He needs to cut out this disappearing act. Thanksgiving is gonna be here soon, and I ain't gonna have him spend the entire five day holiday missing in action. Got me?"

He nodded. "I'll ask where he's been going again, but I haven't exactly been getting answers."

"Then ask harder." I said firmly. Soda stirred the noodles and I grabbed my coat, heading out again.

XXX

"Well, what shall we get?" Two-Bit was looking over the selection of beers but I pulled him along past that. "Hey, I thought you said we were shopping for Thanksgiving dinner!"

"We are.... beer ain't on the list, doe-doe brain." Soda said with a half smile.

"So, exactly what's on the list, Soda?" I asked, absentmindedly looking at a package of broth.

He looked at the list Darry had made up before going to work. "Hamburger, chicken, can of pumpkin, …."

Two-Bit and I exchanged a look. No turkey. They'd always managed before to have turkey, even if it was a small bird, but this year was just about the hardest they'd had it, money wise.

"Two-Bit, you uh, you been keeping an eye on Pony at school for us, right?"

"As close as I can, you know that. Why? He sneaking off for a little six seconds of bliss in the janitors closet now? Remember those days, Stevie?"

"Quit calling me 'Stevie' unless you want to eat my fist." Still, I grinned, doubting the kid was that adventurous. Those were stunts me and Evie, Soda and Sandy, and Two-Bit and Kathy played. Who would the kid be fondling? Damn, now I couldn't get that picture out of my head.

"Shut up, moron. No, I just can't get a handle on where he's headed off to every afternoon. Darry's been getting on my case about it."

"Well, I ain't tailing him in the after-school hours. He's got basketball practice. Closed sessions, remember? Coach won't let anyone in the gym during that. Why, he in trouble?"

"When is the kid _not_ in trouble?" I sighed, now looking at the magazine rack for something new. I hated shopping. Boring. Only wrinkled up old ladies spent this much time matching coupons to products then cross referencing them against lists in the store.

"Lord, I hope not. Darry's under enough pressure without more stress hanging on him."

After Soda had everything crossed off the list, we all traipsed over to the registers. It was more than they'd bought in a while but with the holidays nearly here, every store in town would be closed. Two-Bit did the unloading, giving both mine and Soda's sides a break from the bending. Bout time he did something useful.

I watched it all go up; two boxes of Cheerios, two gallons of milk, carton of eggs, other assorted normal stuff, then the hamburger and chicken. The bagger had it all in three bags, not including the milk.

"$37.28" she said. Soda blanched a bit, sighed, opened his wallet and stared. _Crap, he ain't got enough_. I pulled out my wallet grateful I had my pay on me but before I could open it, Soda handed over two twenties. She handed him the change and we left.

"What was that all about?" Two-Bit asked, obviously noticing his expression too. Soda stayed silent with a troubled look on his face until we got in my car.

"Either of you been padding my wallet?"

"No, but if you need some dough...." Two-Bit said, reaching in to his jeans to get his worn leather bi-fold out.

"Steve?" Soda asked me, that look still there.

"Sorry, buddy. What's up?"

He shook his head. "Darry gave me the money for the grocery last night. Gave me thirty dollars. I'm sure it was only thirty, ten for each of us. I didn't have any other cash in my wallet either. You guys sure you ain't pulling one over on me? Give it up if you are, jokes over. Two-Bit?"

He laughed. "Hell no, Sodapop. Why?"

"Cause there's still over twenty in my wallet now, even _after_ getting the grocery."

He stared at me, but I didn't have any answers. Well, none that made any sense.

XXX

I was tired. I looked at my house, noticing the lights on in the windows. I heard the radio on, something by Bob Dylan playing. I wished I could crawl in my window, plop on my bed and go to sleep, but something told me that wasn't going to happen. I steeled myself and opened my door.

"Well, looky who's home." Two-Bit teased.

"Time?" Soda asked.

"11:17. How'd you do that, Soda?" Steve asked.

Soda looked at me while he shrugged. "Just a good guess. Evening, Ponyboy. Where ya been?"

I swallowed. One was easy to bluff, but not a roomful of people. "Same place I've been all month, out practicing."

"Yeah," Soda said sarcastically. "Practicing."

"Maybe the kid's seeing someone." Steve sneered. I glowered.

"No, I'm not. I _said _I was practicing." I pulled the basketball out of my bag for emphasis and tossed it at him. He deflected it, knocking it into Two-Bit's beer, felling it.

"Hey! Ain't no reason to waste a beer, kid."

"Then leave me alone." I snipped and headed to my room, shutting the door behind me, ignoring the catcalls chasing after me.

I heard chairs scrape the floor, some general cursing and laughter, then quiet. A while later, there was a knock on my door. I hadn't moved from where I lay, sprawled out on my bed, still fully clothed yet already half asleep.

"Pone?" Soda called into my dark room. Not even the lights were on in the hallway.

"Hmmph?" I mumbled.

He sighed, came over and sat next to me on my bed. "What's going on? Don't give me no story about playing basketball in the middle of the night either. I never thought you'd lie to me. You, of all people, to _me_. Fess up. Are... are you doing something you ain't supposed to be doing?"

I opened my eyes and looked at him in the darkness. "No, what would make you think that?"

"Because there've been too many strange things going on around here, things Darry and I can't figure out. You're the only variable in the equation."

"You never should have quit school if you remember those terms, Sodapop. Go back and get your GED." I muttered as I scrunched deeper into my sheets.

He laughed quietly. "Maybe I will, one day." I felt him rub my back, and had to admit I missed that. "Now, where have you been hanging at every afternoon and evening?"

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to so badly, but my resolve won out. "Can't say. Sorry, Soda."

"You don't trust me?"

"Of course I do. But this time, you gotta trust me." I answered softly. The pattern he was kneading into my back changed and I relaxed more.

"Is it anything illegal? Just tell me if it is. Somehow, Darry and me will fix it."

"Uh uh. I ain't doing anything..." yawn … "illegal. I promise you that."

"Did you put the money in my wallet?" he asked quietly. I answered before I could think about it.

"Mmmh hmm." I murmured. He lifted the back of my shirt and I tugged it off the rest of the way, then flopped down on my pillow while he continued his magic.

"Where'd you get the cash from?" he carefully asked as he pried the tension from my back and shoulders.

I was cognizant enough to not answer very truthfully. "I had it saved up."

"Saved from where?"

I didn't answer, everything getting foggy.

"Pone, where did you get the money?"

"Work." I slipped.

"Mrs. Nixon? Did she send it?"

I heard him, but he was too far away for me to answer. He called to me a few more times, getting more and more distant each time, then I felt warmth cover me and silence prevail.

XXX

I'd been too light handed. Just when I thought I could get some answers, the scales tipped and he fell asleep. I covered him up and left his room, the guys hanging at the doorway eavesdropping the whole time – just like I knew they were.

"You knocked him out?" Two-Bit asked, astonished.

"Yeah, didn't mean to do it that fast though. I almost had him. Damn."

"Well, at least you know where the money is coming from. The kid's bringing it home." Steve whispered.

"That's not the important part. I still need to know what he's doing to _get_ the money." I answered in a low tone.

"You don't think the kid's involved in.. well, anything bad, do you?" Steve asked, for once showing genuine concern. I didn't want to even consider that possibility. Yet.

"God, I hope not," was the best I could answer.

"So now what?" Two-Bit asked. I shrugged.

"Keep pecking away until I get some answers. It's all I can think of for now."

XXX

"Where's Pony at _now_?" I called over my shoulder as I slapped some aftershave on my face.

"Off again." Soda answered me from the doorway, a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. "His note said the library would be closed over the holiday and he had to do more research on that paper. I don't know what paper he's working on, but from all the research he's been putting into it, it'd better win the Nobel Prize or something." Soda went back to the kitchen.

"You get the mail yet?" I yelled.

"Naw," he yelled back. "Busy."

I rolled my eyes and headed outside to the box. The electric bill was due any day now and I was dreading it. Last month I had a hard time paying it, not having Soda's income to help make ends meet. It wasn't going to be any better this month either - and this date I was going on in an hour certainly wouldn't help. No matter how hard I budgeted, the amount we needed was more than what I could bring in alone.

That being the case, I felt like I should call Michelle and beg forgiveness as I bailed on our date. Money was just too tight. The only reason I didn't was she had been too good to Soda while he was sick, and that was a kindness I had to repay. It didn't help that she was fun, interesting, and engaging to be with.

I opened the box, seeing the dreaded electric bill shoved there, sandwiched between the phone bill and the water bill. _Trouble came in three's, _I thought_. _I took a deep breath and slid my finger under the flap and opened it, then stared at the amount due.

At first I thought it was great, being less than half of what I'd expected. I'd turned the thermostat way down last month to lower our costs – despite everyone's obvious discomfort. Sure, the house felt like a meat locker at night, but with enough layers of clothes and extra blankets piled on to hold in the heat - coupled with the fireplace roaring all the time, it was passable. Neither brother complained, probably knowing I simply didn't have the money and were kind enough not to point that out. They just endured the cold like I did.

But when I looked at the bill _again_, something just didn't make sense.

"Oh gawd, now that's an expression I don't like. How much?" Soda asked as I came back inside, still reading the bill. I looked up at him.

"Have you …?" I stopped mid-sentence and looked again even closer.

"Have I … _what?_" Soda asked as he came over.

"Wait, there's a _credit_ on here. I know I only sent them the amount owed. Had to take it in the office even, as it was already late. Who paid a credit?"

"You know it wasn't me. How much was the credit?" He looked over my shoulder reading the bill at the same time.

I ignored him, calling the electric company office. Too many things weren't adding up. First the bank, now this.

"Hello, I need to speak to someone in accounts receiving please." Soda just looked at me, an odd look of his own rooted there. A second later, some woman picked up.

"My name's Darrel Curtis. I just got my bill and there's a credit listed. Can you tell me anything about that?"

"Hold on." The woman put her hand over the receiver, muffling out her voice. Another lady came on.

"_Mr. Curtis? I took the prepayment a few days ago. Is there a problem?"_

"Can you tell me who paid it?"

"_I didn't get his name, sorry."_

"Can you describe him?" My nerves were frazzled and my patience at an all time low.

"_A teenager, looked like. A little over five foot tall, short reddish brown hair, fit. That's bout all I remember about him. That help?"_

Oh. Yeah. It. Helped. "Yes, I think I know who did it. Thank you."

"_My pleasure. Have a nice day."_

I hung up without saying a word, seeing nothing but red everywhere I looked.

"Sodapop, where the _hell _is Ponyboy?"

"Oh shit. What'd he do now?"

"He's been making deposits on the bills. I bet he's also the one making deposits on my checking account! I wonder what other accounts he's screwed with? And where the bejesus is he getting the money?"

"Calm down, Darry. Just hold it a minute..."

Soda stopped mid sentence and stared, motionless and paling.

"What? So help me, Soda.... if you know something...."

He shook his head, swallowing some but still looked stunned. "Darry, I swear, I don't know nothing. Now, you got a date to go on. Get dressed and go. We'll deal with this when everybody's home and had a chance to cool off. Now go on."

I didn't move, too pissed to make my muscles function.

"Darry, I said _go_!" Soda insisted with more authority than I'd ever heard him possess. I was still fuming, but I didn't have time to rant. Soda was right, it was going on six and I had to get dressed. Without saying a word I turned and headed to the bedroom.

How someone so young and small like my brother could cause this much devastation in his wake was beyond me.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I know everyone is probably looking forward to holidays and breaks from school or work, but I'd appreciate some meaningful reviews. Thanks! Calla


	39. Bingo

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 39

**Bin-go**

XXX

"Two-Bit, have you seen Ponyboy?"

"_Just at school before everyone cut out for holidays. Why? He skip out again?"_

I heard him laughing over the phone, looked at the clock and stupidly shook my head. "No, I doubt it. If you see him, tell him to get his hide home. Darry's on the warpath." I hung up, not waiting for a reply. I'd tried all the usual spots; the DX – figuring he might be hanging with Steve for some strange reason; his school, the library; even the skating rink, but he wasn't anywhere. Where my younger brother was hanging these days was beyond me. It was a little past eight, technically plenty of time left before his curfew, but if Pony didn't get home before Darry got back from his date, I was sure there would be hell to pay for it.

XXX

"Wow, this place is packed." There were cars everywhere, all _nice_ cars too, making my old Ford seem that much more out of place, me along with it.

"I told you," Michelle crooned. I got out and opened her door for her. She was dressed for the place, a royal blue dress with matching shawl and heals that gave her height but still kept her just below me. I wasn't sure I should even be here, feeling out of place even though my suit still fit and was, from what I could tell, still good enough to wear. My shoes were down to their last wearings, but it wasn't often I needed a pair of dress flats so I never thought to buy a new pair. Right now, I was using a pair of Soda's black socks as the only socks I had were dingy old white ones. I shrugged off my feelings of inadequacy and took her hand in mine, navigating the parking lot to the entrance.

Goosebumps had risen on her arms. "Are you cold?"

She blushed and held my arm a little tighter. "Just a little. It'll be warmer inside."

The warm air enveloped us as we entered, the maitre d' smiling as we approached.

"Evening sir, madam. Do you have a reservation?"

I looked at Michelle, knowing I hadn't made the call so I didn't know what name it would be under.

"Ross," she answered and looked at me, squeezing my hand some. I let my thumb roll over her finger, letting her know it was okay. It was her gift certificate, not mine. She could put the reservation under any name she chose.

"Right this way." He led us through the restaurant up to a balcony seat, giving us a nice view of the place. The lights were dimmed, couples sat close to each other and groups of four or more also huddled to speak. A fire crackled in the fireplace against one wall and in a corner, hidden behind a mountain of poinsettias, a pianist was playing holiday music on a piano.

"Aww, listen... piano music." She grinned as she settled into her chair.

"A little early for Christmas tunes though." I replied as I took off my jacket and sat down. I glanced again at the musician, but couldn't see anyone through the decorative red and white plants.

"Evening, I'm Carl, I'll be your waiter tonight. What can I start you off with to drink?"

Michelle handed him something and spoke softly. "This was given to me from my work, what will it cover?"

Carl took it and looked, nodded some and handed it back. "It will cover two entrées, drinks and deserts; but nothing from the bar. That would be separate. Would you like a few minutes to think it over?"

"I'll have sweet tea, with lemon if you have it," Michelle requested. Carl nodded and looked at me.

"Sir?"

"Coke."

"Yes sir. I'll get those for you. Our specials tonight are roasted duck with sweet potato, or rack of lamb with Potatoes Romanoff. Each come with a salad or steamed asparagus. I'll let you look over the menu while I get your drinks."

Michelle leaned over to speak to me after Carl left. "Wow, the girls at work were right. This really is a fancy place."

"Certainly isn't anything like what's on the East side. Nope, this is all posh. Is this what you wanted?" I wanted to slap myself. What was I saying? She was from this side of town, for heavens sake.

She gave me a half-hearted smile. "Once again, I overdid it, didn't I? First the movie, now this. I'm sorry, Darry. This is a bit over the top, isn't it?"

I smiled and looked down only a moment before shaking my head. "No, it's fine. As long as no one comes out doing sign language, I can handle it."

She giggled a bit, low enough not to draw attention. I admired the way she looked and reached for her hand across the table. "What do you want to eat?"

"Well, duck has never set will with me, too gamey, and lamb just never tastes right. I'll have a steak. You?"

"Sounds good."

Right on cue, Carl came back over with our drinks and a basket of warm breadsticks. We placed our orders and settled back, talking some while waiting for the food.

"So how long have you been in construction?"

I put my breadstick down, thinking about it. "I started doing roofing the summer I was 18. Same boss and everything. He showed me how to do the job and do it right. After high school, I had planned to go to college part time and work part time - had been accepted to school and everything. Mr. Campbell let me work my college schedule around his work schedule and everything would have been great. Then, over Christmas break, well... the accident happened and I had to take over on the homefront. College fell by the wayside, Mr. Campbell took me full time, and days became months. That was almost two years ago. Seems longer somehow."

"He seems like a good boss, your Mr. Campbell."

"He's a fair man. Better than any other boss I've heard of. He knows he'll get an honest day's work out of me, and I won't give him anything less."

"You have a lot of pride in you, Darry. That's good."

"I'm just trying to get through. How bout you, what's your story?"

"Gosh, well... I already told you some of it. I went to nursing school right out of high school, ignored my boyfriend too much and he left, graduated and started working at Tulsa General. I've been there ever since. I started on the floors but bedpans and dressing changes got old real fast. They offered me the position in the ICU and I took it. I like it there. The only other place I would want to work would be the ER. However, that's not an easy spot to get. Everyone wants it."

"And the cat?" I teased. She laughed.

"Don't tell me you're jealous of a plain old tabby cat?" She waited half a second with a grin on her face before rolling her eyes and continuing. "Her name is Freckles and she loves to claw my shoes!"

I chuckled, trying to picture it.

"Here you are sir, one steak with baked potato and asparagus, and for you madam, one steak with mashed potatoes and salad. Anything else?" Carl looked at us but we both shook our heads. He left and we ate, for a while the only thing we heard was the soft murmuring of other diners around us and the music of the pianist.

"He's good," Michelle quipped. I looked up trying to figure out who she was referring to.

"Sorry?"

She smiled. "The pianist. He looked familiar but I can't place him."

I glanced again over the railing, still not able to see. "You must have a better view. All I see from my vantage point is an assortment of flowers." I recognized the song though. "Still, even though it is early, he's got some talent. Nothing like what my mother had."

"Your mother played?"

"Mmh, hmm. She played for the church every Sunday for years. When Pony came along, she finally had one of her kids show an interest in music. Soda and I wouldn't sit still for it, but Ponyboy loved it. Mom taught him to play when he was younger, getting pretty good at it too - up until our parents were killed. He rarely goes near the piano now."

Suddenly she sat up, looked at me then squinted at the pianist, motionless as if frozen.

"I say something wrong?"

She turned back to me, smiling mysteriously but shaking her head. "Nope, sorry. So, you were saying Ponyboy plays the piano?"

"Played. It's a blue moon when I catch him at the keys now."

"Uh huh." The look on her face confused me, like she was hiding something. She went back to eating and cut out the chatter, looking around while she ate.

"Would you like to see the deserts?" Carl returned and handed us the desert menu. I looked it over, and even though our meals came with desert, I was too full. I ordered coffee instead. She had a piece of pie and coffee as well.

"So, what are your Thanksgiving plans?"

I thought about it. "Probably grill burgers or something, make a pie. Usually the guys and I go out and play a game of football in the lot then come in and hang out. You?"

"I'm off to see my parents first thing in the morning. They live out in Wellington, Kansas, just south of Wichita. Then back to work for the weekend."

Her desert and our coffees arrived and again, we were silent as the ambiance of the establishment enveloped us. Unless they needed roofing work, this would probably be my first and last time in the building.

Then, my ears caught on to faint notes I recognized. It wasn't like it just suddenly started, rather, the pianist wove notes I hadn't heard in years into other harmonies that faded away. As if one piece of music ebbed into another without stopping. I'd heard most of the songs being played during our meal before and had been able to tune them out, but this _particular_ piece of music was composed by one person, one person who had never given her sheet music out to anyone that I knew of, and wasn't here anymore to claim it either. I stopped in mid-stir, looking sharply at the pianist wanting to know how he'd gotten my mothers files.

"Darry, stop." Michelle said rather abruptly, but low enough not to cause attention.

"I _know_ that piece." I insisted, craning my neck in vain trying to see around the flowers that sat right in front of the pianist.

"I'm sure you do. I thought I recognized him. Come here, look from my seat."

I got up and moved over next to her, looking over the railing. The view was still mostly blocked, but I could make out a thin profile of the person playing the piano. He appeared young, handsomely dressed in a black suit and tie, his attention given only to the keys as his hands showed mastery of the instrument his age shouldn't have. Then like a bolt of lightening, I focused on his face._ Ponyboy_! But what in God's name was he doing _here_?

"Not a word, Darry. Please!" She rested her hand on mine, twining her small fingers around my larger ones and I slowly let out a sigh, biding her wish. The look on her face let me know she knew I recognized him.

"Is everything alright?" Carl asked, coming over.

Michelle took my seat and I sat in hers, not able to take my eyes off him. Anger gave way to awe and for a moment it was like the few times mom had taken us to church; I'd sit there, watching and listening to her play the piano until the sermon began. I couldn't bring forth words to speak.

"What can you tell me about the pianist? He's very good." Michelle inquired for me, which was considerate of her because I couldn't speak.

"I'm afraid I don't know very much about him. He's been playing here about a month, but only for a few hours during our busiest dinner hours. I never see him when he gets here and when I look up, he's gone again. However, he gets lots of compliments from customers, and business has definitely picked up while he's around."

"Does he take requests?" I wondered aloud, my throat bone dry for some reason.

"No sir, he doesn't."

Carl waited a bit longer, obviously uncomfortable with my sudden lapse of etiquette.

"Would there be anything else for you sir? Madam?"

Michelle squeezed my hand and I tore my gaze from Pony to look at him, coming back to my senses as I shook my head. "No, thank you. Check please." He pulled out a small portfolio from his pocket and handed it to me, the check tucked inside it as if this were a business meeting. Michelle handed me the gift certificate and a dollar. I added a dollar as well for tip and stood to go. I reached behind Michelle to where I had been sitting and got my coat, slipping her shawl over her shoulders too. I gave Pony one final look then took Michelle's hand, leading her back through the restaurant; the notes of the piano continuing to fill the air.

Outside, the wind was picking up, a cool breeze moved leaves down the street as if they were stringless kites. I held her hand in mine but was speechless as to what to say. My mind not fully here anymore.

"Seems your brother has a few tricks up his sleeve." Of course she would notice my absentmindedness.

"I'm sorry, Michelle. Seeing him here was unexpected. You didn't_ know_ he was here, did you?"

My suspicions were dismissed when she vehemently shook her head. "No, absolutely not. Until I saw him, I had no idea." We walked a bit more in silence while I tried to piece things together in my head. "Are you angry at him?"

I bowed my head, not sure of the answer myself. "He shouldn't be sneaking off like this. I need to know where he is at all times, and this.... this ain't exactly the right side of town for him to be in. Too much bad blood exists here between him and his past."

"But you're not angry." She said it more as a statement. I stopped by my truck and looked at her under the light. Her eyes searched mine for an answer.

"I'm proud of him. I always am. And his talent.... wow. But still a little disappointed too. Obviously he didn't want me knowing he was here and that is a trust issue I'll have to work out with him."

"I'm sorry. If I hadn't done this, I wouldn't be causing problems in your family, and right at the holidays, too."

She looked down, I could see disappointment on her face again - just as when we were at the theater.

"I'm delighted to be here with you, despite everything else." I stepped closer, brushing my thumb across her smooth, reddened cheek, she looked up some to peer at me.

"You are?"

"Of course. Dinner with the nicest lady in town, who just happens to be the best nurse to ever care for anyone in my family, serenaded by music my mother wrote and played by my brother. What fool wouldn't want that?"

She softly smiled, her eyes twinkling like the stars above. "You give me too much credit. There are other nurses much better than I am."

"Not according to Soda, and I tend to take his word for it."

Her eyes shined and in silence, I held her closer; my finger now gliding over her thin lips. Emotions long ago forgotten and buried from work and bills and responsibilities heaped on a 19 year old came flooding back. I waited for her to protest my hands becoming familiar with her face, but she never flinched, never backed away. Slowly, I bent down and kissed her, forgetting for that moment everything else. It was nice feeling human again.

"I was wondering how long I was going to have to wait for that." She breathed when we broke apart.

"I hope it was worth the wait." I softly laughed.

"It was." She smiled. I opened the passenger door to my truck and let her in, then went to my side to slide in next to her. I had a little time still before I had to get home.

XXX

Shoot! The lights were still on. I should have expected it, but was still hoping. I crept on the porch and looked in the window, Soda, Steve Two-Bit were all here. _Don't those bums have homes of their own? _I groaned inwardly and opened the door, sliding inside.

"Time!" Two-Bit shouted.

"11:14" Steve called.

Great, they must have had a pool on when I'd get home. Wonder who won. Either way, Steve and Two-Bit were laughing, Soda only smiled.

"I'm home before curfew, what's the big deal?" I asked with sarcasm. To them, this was a game; to me, it was the only way I could help out. As it was, I was tired, cold, hungry, and exhausted from all the worry I seemed to be doing lately. My patience was more than a little thin.

"What's the pot up to now, Soda?" Steve asked, ignoring my question.

"Thirty dollars." Soda said, looking at me strangely. I feigned ignorance of the remark, but pretty much knew I was busted. I couldn't find Darry's wallet to slip the money into this morning so I put it in Soda's. I should have known better than to do that.

I rolled my eyes and slinked off toward my room, hearing the scraping of our dining room chairs behind me. I shouldn't have expected that they'd leave me in peace. They all barged in, Two-Bit flopping on my bed, Steve sitting backwards in my chair and Soda standing with his arms crossed at the foot of my bed, trying (and failing) to glare at me.

"Ponyboy, enough of the clueless look, okay? Where's the money coming from?"

"I claim the fifth." I said bluntly while changing out of my shirt.

"The what?" Two-Bit asked.

"Shut up, Two-Bit," Steve grumbled.

"Po-ny! I am losing my patience with this, now come off it. Who's loaning you the dough? Tim? Don't tell me you got a job, Darry'll skin you and me both."

"You all know he won't let me work. Max said he'd take me, but Darry has to sign off on it first. And you and I both know he won't, not until this summer – if I go back there again at all."

"And what's_ that_ supposed to mean?" Soda asked indignantly. "Sam pays you good money for cleaning a bunch of cages."

"Guys, cool it." Steve lamely ordered. Both of us ignored him.

"I was hoping he'd let me go back to Hollis...."

"Wheee yaaawwll. I knew that senorita would play into this eventually." Two-Bit grinned ear to ear.

"Shut up, Two-Bit," Soda and I both said simultaneously. "It ain't necessarily her, Soda. Mrs. Nixon pays better, even you know that. And I _do_ have a horse to take care of. And yes, I _would_ like to see Linda again, but I ain't counting on her even liking me after nearly a year apart."

"Ponyboy, Sodapop … enough." Everyone turned to see Darry, dressed in his dark blue pants and button up shirt, suddenly hovering in my doorway. "Everyone out. I need to speak to Pony alone."

There was a momentary pause while this sank in, then in slow motion Steve and Two-Bit headed off to the living room. Soda stayed back but Darry looked at him and jutted his chin out. "You too, Soda."

"Darry, I..."

"Soda, let me handle this. Now go on."

Soda gave us both a last glance, a pleading expression on his face to Darry - I guessed to leave me in one piece when he was done ripping me a new one, then he slid out with the rest. I heard the front door close before Darry shut my door, leaving me alone with him. He took the chair, sitting backwards in it to face me.

"Sit down, little man."

I crawled in my bed, against the furthest corner away from him and leaned against my pillow.

"Where's the money coming from?"

"What money?" I asked stupidly. It was obvious he already knew something.

He smirked and shook his head. "Lordy have mercy, there just _had_ to be one hard-headed young-un in this family. Ponyboy, you're not that thick and I can't believe I've been that gullible. I've noticed what's been going on around here, but thought at first the guys were doing it, trying to help out in their own bizarre way. The extra canned goods, a few packages of meats, the odd half gallon of milk.

"And the deposits to my checking account! Damn, I'm blind. I thought the bank had messed up - had deposited someone else's money in my account by mistake. I didn't even consider after_ three _deposits that it_ wasn't_ a mistake. I even had them freeze my account to work out the problem.

"But when I saw a credit on the electric bill, I knew _that_ wasn't a mistake. I called them today, before I went out with Michelle, and the woman described someone fitting your description as the one making the payment on our account. You did it, didn't you? All of it?"

A moment of stark silence was my only initial answer. I was in too deep, lying was out of the question. "I was only trying to help," I pleaded. "You work too hard, and Soda..."

"I know." he said oddly gently, waving me off. "I know you were only trying to help. But why? It's _my_ job to do this, not yours."

"You can't do everything, Darry. Soda's out of commission right now, but I ain't. I can work for a while until things are better."

"Your work is school. It's the only job you _should_ have. How are your grades, by the way? I haven't seen your report card in ages."

"Four 'A's' and two 'B's.' It's even better than last time," I answered sourly.

"You still playing basketball or is that a rouse too?"

That hurt. "I've never lied to you, Darry. I _have_ been going to the library, and I _have _been working on my game. I just squeezed in a little extra in between all that, too."

"Well, how you managed everything is beyond me." He looked at me, shaking his head with his eyebrows furrowed in consternation, like a jigsaw puzzle he couldn't put together.

"Ain't you gonna ask me what everyone else has?" I couldn't stand the suspense anymore, I knew this was where everything was leading anyway. I'd have to tell him, he'd get mad and I'd have to quit. "Where I got the money?"

"I'd rather tell you about my date, if you won't mind."

Well now, that was a shocker. I didn't move, not sure where this was going anymore.

"Michelle and I went to a fancy restaurant, had all sorts of stuff like what you'd see in any of those deep movies you like so much. Dimmed lighting, candles on tables, linen tablecloths, flowers. A fire crackled in the fireplace. We ordered our food and talked. It was nice. One day I hope you'll enjoy going out with a young lady like that."

I couldn't help notice Darry had a wistful look on his face while he spoke. It didn't last very long.

"There was music playing. Not some records or even piped-in radio stations, but real music from a real live musician. Seems the place had a pianist...."

I felt the blood drain from my face. It couldn't be....

"... and at first I wasn't paying him any attention, until he started playing songs composed by someone only you, Soda and I knew. Care to guess where I took Michelle to dinner, Ponyboy?"

"Rosewoods." My throat, dry as a bone, cracked. It wasn't a guess.

"Bin-go."

XXX

Calla Lily Rose.


	40. Ted

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 40

**Ted**

XXX

"So, he's been working the whole time?" Steve asked, a longneck in one hand, cards in another.

"Yup. Sneaky son-of-a-gun, ain't he?" I answered, glad to finally be out of that suit and into something comfortable. I looked at my own cards - aside from the ace of spades, I had nothing.

"How was he managing it, ya know, getting there and everything? On the West side, no less!" Two-Bit wondered, tossing out a three of clubs.

"The bus stop is right outside the restaurant. Besides, Rosewood's ain't exactly a Soc hangout, it's more for Soc parents." I looked at my own beer, cautious about how much I was going to drink.

"Or lovers....." Soda said with a snarly grin pointed right at me.

"Shut up, Sodapop." I said, not taking the bait. The other two clowns had grins of their own but wisely said nothing.

The water in the shower cut off and the subject dropped while Pony came out and headed to his room. Two-Bit called it and laid down a full house, laughing while sweeping up all the chips over to his side of the table. Pony came out a few minutes later, wearing one of my old Tulsa University sweat tops and his sweat pants. It was late, well past one in the morning, but no one was heading off to their own beds - either in this house or their own. Tomorrow – or rather _today_ was Thanksgiving, and everyone was off.

"So, you finally admit what we've all suspected, huh?" Two-Bit started as he handed me the cards to shuffle and deal again. Pony wiggled himself around the table to sit between Soda and Two-Bit, avoiding the open seat by me. "You've been selling yourself for profit!"

"Two-Bit, I swear!" I groaned.

"Well, he has, ain't he? His fingers, anyway!"

Pony blushed some, wiggling around in his seat and drew his knee up to his chest. "Made good money, too. Better than you would've."

"Ooooh, that a challenge, kid? Cause while your _fingers_ might make money, I'm certain his ..."

"That's enough, Steve." I interjected. He'd almost finished a beer and was getting more flippant than I liked with Pony in the room. They all headed my warning and went back to the cards. Pony looked at his hand, tossed in a chip and asked for a card.

"You gonna let me work still, Dar? I need to let Mr. Brock know."

I sighed. I wasn't keen on the idea of him working, but admittedly, it looked like what he did was more "fun" than anything resembling "work".

"Pony, do you like it, playing the piano?" I asked skeptically while nursing my beer.

He looked at the guys first then down over his knee, nodding slightly. "Yeah, I mean, it ain't tuff or nothing, but it's okay. The money's good."

Again, his rep. Still trying hard to be a hard core greaser when it just wasn't in his future. We all saw it, I think he did too. He just refused to accept he was on a different pathway than the the rest of us.

"How much did you make tonight, Pone?" Soda asked. Even I was curious. He shrugged.

"Mr. Brock pays me five dollars a night, the rest I get in tips. It's small stuff, but by the end of the week, it adds up. I think tonight I made seven bucks, not counting bus fair."

"Shoot, that ain't bad for just three hours." Soda said looking at me. "Whaddya think, Dar? It's the holidays, he's out of school for the rest of the week."

"The rest of the week ain't the issue. I don't like him out at night, riding the bus all over the West side. You're getting in too late. And if you're carrying money and someone gets wind of it, you'd be a sitting duck to get mugged." I may have been answering Soda, but I was looking at Pony.

"I'll take him." Soda offered, getting my attention while he tossed in two chips and raised one more. Steve looked at him and tossed in another chip, playing along - as did Two-Bit. Pony said nothing, just tossed in his chips too.

"You haven't been medically cleared to drive." I reminded him.

"I get cleared next week." Soda shot back.

"I can take the kid in my car," Steve offered.

"Or y'all can ride in mine. Bessie's purring real good again, thanks to Sodapop." Two-Bit grinned, backing up Steve's offer. Seems I had a coup on my hands.

"Pleasure, Two-Bit." Soda smiled smugly.

I'd ignored the fact that Soda had been working on Two-Bit's car a little each day, seeing as how he had nothing else to do until rehab in the afternoons. I knew he'd never just sit still and recuperate.

"I want to help, Darry. We need it. You know we need it. It ain't like _work_ work, either. I ain't lifting stuff or stocking shelves. It ain't long hours in a hothouse. I don't even wear a name badge. Nobody knows me there, except a few of the waiters. And the only drinks I get are occasional glasses of water, nothing more. It's only until Soda's fit to work again....."

His low voice trailed off, his green eyes piercing me, silently begging. Damn, I hated this. I'd sworn I'd never make Pony work to make our ends meet. However, his money was going to do just that. With all the money he'd deposited in my account that I hadn't spent, I had enough to pay up on the bills that had been set aside until I got my next check.

"Let him work, Darry. It's only until Christmas." Soda piped in, his voice low, masking the pleading tone.

"Fine," I gave in, calling the game. "But only if someone takes you and picks you up. No more riding the bus alone." As happy as they all seemed by this, it still bothered me that I still had to have Pony's help, taking the little money he'd make to pay our bills. But I figured if I didn't, he'd just sneak off and find something else to do.

Soda chucked him on his shoulder, grinning at him.

"Who won?" Steve asked, looking at the cards laid out on the table.

"I did," Pony smiled. I looked, sure enough, four of a kind.

XXX

"Two-Bit, check the oven."

"It's on, Ma, all hot and bothered."

"Not around your sister!" Mom growled, swatting me with the dishtowel. Karen merely looked over and rolled her eyes. I chuckled inwardly. She wasn't old enough to be all into the guy scene yet, but _innocent ..._ she most definitely was not.

I ate some carrots while watching my mother shove apples up that massive turkey's butt, slather butter all over it, hit it a few times with a salt shaker, cover the whole thing with aluminum foil then shove the entire mess in the oven. She wiped sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand and smiled at me, looking exhausted.

"And what time is_ that _gonna be done cooking? Really Ma, we'll never eat all that, it's huge." I asked, shoving chewed up carrot in one cheek to talk.

"Honestly, Two-Bit, I know I taught you manners." she answered with a flick of her wrist, waving off my question. "Where did you put them?"

I stepped next to her and gave her a kiss on her cheek, holding in my laughter. "Ran out of room. They're in the attic with the rest of the stuff I don't use. Now, when's Big Bird gonna be done?"

She turned to wash her hands. "Around two."

"Perfect." I took three potatoes out and skinned them, quartered them and plopped them in a pot of water, turning the stove on to let it boil then searched the freezer for the package of corn, setting it out on the counter.

"Put in a few more potatoes, Two-Bit." Ma instructed. I looked at it, since when do we eat more than three potatoes? Still, I learned a long time ago, do NOT argue with my mother. I skinned and quartered a few more and tossed them in too.

"Mom, how much cinnamon do I need?" Karen asked. I looked over her shoulder at the ancient cookbook she was using. It was once used by our grandmother, now it was Mom's. In time, it would be Karen's, providing the binding held up. Wear and tear, not to mention a little spilled sugar and a drop of egg white or two over the last fifty years had made the pages not what they used to be. Thankfully, we only used this one recipe – pumpkin pie, from it.

"A teaspoon," I answered. Mom seemed sidetracked.

"Thanks," Karen mumbled, adding the ingredients and blending it all together.

"One question, sis, where do you plan to bake that?"

Karen looked at me then at the oven, her shoulders sinking as she realized the huge turkey took up the whole space and wouldn't be free for hours.

"Oh no!" she groaned.

I laughed. "Don't worry, I know where there's another oven that probably ain't being used." I got my coat and slid on my shoes. "Ma, would you take the potatoes off for me when they get done? Me and Karen are gonna go bake that pie of hers."

"They don't like me, Two-Bit." she groused.

"Oh please, they like you fine. And anyway, it's your pie. You want it baked or not?"

XXX

"Anyone home?" Two-Bit's voice bellowed over the living room as he came inside.

"No!" we all yelled back in unison, a tinkling of laughter also drifting in from three rooms of the house.

"Hey, I need an oven, y'all cooking anything?" he asked as he came inside, setting a bowl containing sloshy yellowy orange contents on the counter. Behind him in the kitchen doorway was his sister.

"Not for a while. Morning, Karen, Happy Thanksgiving." Darry said.

"Thanks. Um, you too."

"There ya go, kiddo." Two-Bit said as he turned the oven on. "One oven, have at it."

He left her to herself in the kitchen and came out to the living room where I sat watching the parade. Pony was still on the phone, one leg cocked over one chair arm, the other planted on the floor while the rest of him lay slouched back over the other arm of the chair. Literally, he was slouching sideways. I shook my head; he reminded me of Gumby, flexible and long enough to bend all over the place. That would absolutely kill my back.

"... No, I haven't asked him yet but I will. …. Yeah, I know, I miss you too. I better go... no, but as they say, my dime's up. You have a good Thanksgiving too. Bye Linda." Pony finally got off the phone.

"And how is everything down on the farm?" I asked, tossing a couch pillow at him.

Karen finished doing whatever she was doing, slid her concoction in our oven then slipped into a chair at our table, looking around silently. This wasn't her first visit but her trips here were rare.

"Good. Mrs. Nixon sold two of her bulls. Alex had a birthday, she's seven now. And Casper's gonna be a daddy again."

"Who's Casper?" Karen suddenly asked. Pony looked up and turned pink, obviously forgetting she was here.

"My horse. The lady keeping him for me offers his stud services for a fee.

"You make _money_ doing that?" She asked, her face screwed up, obviously disgusted.

"Sure do, a whole lot of money." Pony nodded, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling with a satisfied grin on his face.

"Ewww."

I looked at Two-Bit, hiding a smile. Laughter was hiding behind his eyes as well.

XX

Thanks to Karen's pie, their house smelled good. It was out and cooling on a potholder for a while before we had to get back home, Pony and Karen deeply involved in a checkers game while me, Darry and Soda watched the football game.

"I win." Karen announced as she took a piece around the board.

"No you didn't. That piece wasn't kinged. He can't go _backwards_!"

"Yes he was, there just weren't enough pieces to king him before," she argued back.

"No he wasn't!" Pony insisted louder. "If he _should_ have been kinged, you should have kinged him or turned him over until a piece was available!"

"Oh great. The kiddies are feuding." I mumbled. "Aren't they cute."

"Adorable." Soda agreed dryly.

"Yes he_ was_!" Karen continued in a demanding tone. Neither paid us any attention.

"Take it outside, both of you, I can't hear the game!" Darry barked.

I laughed at that prospect, Pony fighting my sister. "Come on, Karen. Time to head home anyway. Ma's gonna wonder where we ran off to. Besides, after baking that pie, I don't think you want to have it thrown in your face, or waste it throwing it in Pony's. It's just a checker's game, let it go."

"But I _won_! Fair and square!" She insisted.

I got the pie and gave her a shove towards the door that told her I meant business, but she turned around and left ahead of me in a huff.

"You mean you _cheated_," Pony called out, tossing the pieces back in the box.

"You coming back over later, Two-Bit?" Darry asked before I followed my simmering sister out.

Looking over the yards, noticing the unfamiliar car parked close to my house, my thoughts grew darker and my happy holiday high I was just on faded. It was then that I remembered something Ma had told me a few weeks ago. "Yeah, I think I will. That okay?"

"You're always welcome, buddy. See ya in a bit."

XXX

"Karen, here, take the pie."

"You should have told him to back off -...!"

"... - You were in his house, using their oven. Now, shut up and accept the fact that you didn't have your piece kinged whether it should have been or not. And this is a stupid argument, so drop it!" I stared past her, trying to get a better look at our house.

"But...!" she tried again, but I gave her my _shut the hell up_ look, which thankfully she did. Immediately.

"Come on," I said, tugging on her jacket.

Out by the curb was a Plymouth; not old, not new, not clean either. I went inside, keeping Karen behind me and making sure my butterfly was in my pocket where I could get to it if I needed it. An unfamiliar mens coat lay over the couch, and in the kitchen, Mom was obliviously closing the oven door. If danger was near, she wasn't registering it. The smell of turkey filled the house.

"Mom, everything okay?" I asked, looking around for whatever was giving me the bad vibes.

She looked at me, concerned and weary. "Yes, everything's fine. However, we do have company. Remember, Two-Bit, I told you....."

Water ran in the bathroom, shut off and the door opened, out stepping a man I hadn't seen in years - one I wasn't hoping to ever see again. His eyes met my gaze then fell some as Karen came around the corner.

"Mom?" she asked, stepping closer behind me, not recognizing him.

"Is that _Karen_? My little pumpkin? Gosh, you've grown!"

I wanted to hit him. _Of course she's grown. That happens when you feed a kid a few times a day, every day, over the years. _

She looked at me then at Mom, I guess wanting either introductions or an explanation. She had been too young to remember him but I remembered a lot. A whole lot. Apparently who _I_ was also just clued in as a startled look of recognition swept over his face.

"Keith, _son._.." He stepped to me - hand out, but I shook my head.

"You don't get to call me 'son' when you ain't been the one raising me." I answered hotly. Keeping my temper had never been so hard. I felt Karen stiffen at my side.

"Keith, please..." Mom began, but I wasn't going to listen.

"No ma'am. I love ya, Mom, but I already told you, I ain't gonna have no part of this."

It was a staring contest, me glaring at him, him trying to find the crack in the armor that I wouldn't let him have, and Karen keeping her distance, feeling (I'm sure) my negative vibes.

"Well Ted, you wanted to see them, here they are. Still planning to stay for dinner?" She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the sink, looking at him. I noticed the spite in her tone.

He nodded his head slightly despite seeing it wasn't agreeable to us. "If I could, if that's okay with you and the kids."

"Sorry, I have plans to eat elsewhere." I looked at Mom, she gave me a slight nod, understanding.

"Mom, Peggy sort of...."

"That's okay, Karen. Peggy's mother called, inviting you. It's fine, go on. Tell them 'Happy Thanksgiving' for me."

Karen stepped away from me and grabbed her jacket. I knew her friend Peggy lived just down the block. Karen usually stayed at her place when Mom worked late and I was out being an overgrown, irresponsible, twenty-something year old teenager. Peggy's place was to her what the Curtis house was to me and Steve – an oasis.

Without taking my eyes of the man who was my father but had rarely been a dad, I gave Mom a peck on the cheek, a slight hug around the middle and left. Mom wasn't weak, raising me and Karen while bartending actually made her a very tough broad to deal with. Besides, she knew where I'd be and all the muscle power that was there. One call would bring us all running, spleenless, lungless, Muscles and the piano man too.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose


	41. A Reason For Thanks

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 41

**A Reason For Thanks**

XXX

"Well, Ted. It's Thanksgiving and you saw both your kids. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" The sarcasm was hard to miss.

"What have you told them?" he asked angrily.

"I haven't told them a thing. Keith was old enough to remember. Karen, hopefully, doesn't. _**I **_won't ever forget." she said icily. He took a step closer, but she planted both her feet on the floor, shifting her weight equally. Behind her on the counter was the carving knife, hidden from his view but right where her fingers could grasp it if needed.

"I never did a damn thing to those kids and you know it."

"No argument from me about that. You weren't here for me, you weren't here for them. But you were wrong about one thing Ted. I _didn't_ need you. I've made it, with no help from you, either."

He looked around the house and smirked. "You call _this_ making it? This place is a dump! And the kids... they ain't no better than you! He's what - twenty, twenty-one now ... and still in high school? Just like you, Beth, he ain't going nowhere in life!"

"And where has life taken you, Ted? Or are you still pushing a broom and scrubbing toilets? They haven't failed because of me, if they've failed it's because of you. What sort of father have you been? An absent one, that's what. Well, we've been doing just fine without you, so let's just keep that up. Get out."

He started toward her, but she pulled the knife around where he could see it and he stopped cold in his tracks. He could see in her eyes that she meant business. He backed off.

"Elizabeth, I never thought I'd see the day. Fine. That's how you want it, then I got no problem with that." he turned and left, leaving her alone again in the house. For the first time, she even felt happy about it.

_Now what to do about that huge bird? _It didn't take long for her to know exactly what to do with it. Somewhere, she knew Beverly would be smiling.

XXX

"Go for the pass, Pone!" I shouted, watching him scamper off to the far side of the lot. I sent the ball sailing when he turned to look and reached to catch it ... but it bounced off him into the weeds instead. I shook my head.

"He's a track runner and a ball passer, Darry; you _can't_ turn him into a receiver!" Soda yelled from the sidelines.

"If he'd just _work _at it..." I grumbled.

"Sorry!" Ponyboy shouted from the far side of the lot as he retrieved the ball for the third time.

"This is a waste of time!" I groaned low enough where only I could hear. Looking at the sidelines, it was almost comical. Soda with his gimp holding his arm protectively over his side, Steve in just about the same position as they leaned against the adjacent abandoned building. _My best receivers out on the injured reserve list. Sad sad sad. If I were a coach, I'd just forfeit._

Pony sent the ball back, I caught it without hardly having to move.

"Need a third player?" Two-Bit asked as he came strolling up.

"You mean, do I need a _second_ player. I thought you were having Thanksgiving dinner at your place."

"Aww, c'mon now Darry, the kid can't be perfect at everything!"

I passed him the ball, he spun it in the air a time or two. "I was, or will, later. Got some company at the house I'm waiting on to leave. You guys eat?"

He started out to the far end by Pony while I answered. "Nope. Gonna grill the burgers when everyone decides they're hungry. You're welcome to join us. I'm bout out of beer though."

He sent the ball sailing back, making me run a bit to catch it with a strong_ whumph_ being audible in my catch. _Finally_! I sent it back the same way. A few passes later, I noticed Pony wasn't out there anymore.

"Pone?" I looked around.

"Yeah?" He was alone, hanging over by the fence, looking off in the distance.

"You done playing?"

"I ain't got a strong arm."

"Hey Darry! The masses are getting hungry!" Soda called over with a laugh.

"Alright, fine. Go on and get the grill started, just don't use an entire can of lighter fluid this time!"

"Hell, being blown up once was enough. I ain't itching to repeat that!" Steve called over as he and Soda headed back to the house, Pony following along behind. I dropped Two-Bit's unexpected pass thinking about what he'd said.

"So who's at your place?" I asked as Two-Bit came trotting back over.

"You won't believe it."

"Try me." I honestly had no idea.

"Ted came to visit."

I thought a minute. "Ted? Your _father_, Ted?"

"That'd be the one."

"I thought he split?"

"He did. Ma told me a few weeks ago he wanted to have dinner. Just out of the blue, after all these years. Hope he don't choke on the drumstick."

"He even say what he wanted?"

"No idea, and I don't want to know. He split out years ago. Trust me, he ain't like your pop was. He's more like a cross between Johnny's and Steve's. No good, critical, abusive to Ma. Wouldn't leave no marks, but talked down to her just the same. Then one day he took off. Ma never talked about it and I knew better than to ask."

"I had no idea. Sorry, man. Anything I can do?"

"Yeah, grill the burgers! I'm starving!" He ran ahead, turned and tossed me the ball then headed off to catch up with the guys. Smoke was already billowing out my backyard when I got there. I shook my head, they'd used too much lighter fluid, again.

XXX

"Hello? Anyone home?"

"Ma?" Two-Bit looked over his shoulder at his mother, peeking in our door then got up to take the huge foil covered platter from her.

Darry came out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was all about as I was now being handed bowls of warm food to haul to the table.

"Oh Darry, good. Here's a few other things I thought you boys would like..." Mrs. Mathews took something from Karen who was getting more stuff from their car that was parked out in front of our house. One platter after another made it's way to our table. Whipped potatoes, gravy, corn on the cob. There was no room for the deserts; a cake and two pies had to go to the kitchen. Eventually Mrs. Mathews brought out the last bowl and looked at us, smiling.

"Mrs. Mathews, I don't understand?" Darry started, but Mrs. Mathews swatted away his words like they were a pesky fly; the look of shock easily registering on his face. Nobody just did that in our house.

"Now, Darrel, there's no way Karen and I are gonna eat this whole bird by ourselves, and since Two-Bit's always hanging around over here anyway, I figure he may as well eat the food I cooked. Now boys, there's potatoes, corn - I think we got the biscuits...Karen, did we get the biscuits?"

"Yes, Ma, I got the biscuits...."

"Good. Biscuits, and some deserts too. Now you boys dig in and help yourselves, there's plenty."

Darry looked Soda who had the same look of shock and surprise I had. And after all the fanfare, we all knew he wasn't going to say 'no' either.

"Ma? Ted?" Two-Bit asked real low, like he didn't want anyone to hear while everyone started migrating into the kitchen to get plates and silverware. I kept my mouth shut but noticed she also waved his question off without an answer.

Our hamburgers were already made but Darry quietly slipped them in the fridge and helped himself to the bird, already claiming one of the drumsticks. Steve carved a bunch of meat off the breast bone to which I also wanted, and before long, we all had plates overflowing with turkey and all the fixings.

I looked around, Darry was with Two-Bit and his mother over in the living room, hovered over their plates and talking, Soda and Steve were in the kitchen using the counter tops to both sit on and eat from. Over in the corner was Karen, nibbling on a corn cob. I went over and sat down by her.

"Did you know your mother was going to do this?" I asked her, who suddenly tried to discreetly pick out some corn stuck between her teeth. She shook her head.

"Nope. I was over at my friend Peggy's for a bit, then she called over and told me to come back home. Next thing I knew, I was hauling plates and platters of food to the car, then we came here. With Ma, you never know what motivates her half the time. I _was_ wondering why she bought that big bird for just the three of us though when it was on sale last week. Hey, you ever gonna admit I won that game?"

"If you think you won, then in your mind you did. In _mine_, you didn't. That good enough?"

"No. I want a rematch."

I smiled at her. "Don't hold your breath."

XXX

The turkey lasted a few days but it was the best meal we'd had in ages. School was back in session that next Monday, although why was anyone's guess. Half the teachers wanted to forge ahead, put out new material and test on it. The other half were more interested in just maintaining some semblance of order until after Christmas. Two-Bit and Steve had the "hey, just don't break anything or anyone" teachers; I had the "lets forge ahead and _learn_" teachers. Sometimes, it just doesn't pay to be smart.

"You get your paper done?" Tony asked as we settled into class.

I nodded. "Yep. A month of research, three packs of notecards, an outline and two hours at the typewriter later, waa-laa." I pulled my semester theme out and showed it to him. He raised his eyebrows and gave it a look.

"Not bad, Ponyboy. Bet she gives you an 'A' on it."

"I hope so, but if I get anything lower than a 'B+,' my brothers will kill me. I worked my rump off for that. What's your's on?"

"Nothing major. Just the movement of icebergs in the New England shipping lanes during 1912."

I should have known. "You and that ship. Think they'll ever find it?"

"Sure they will. Eventually. Afterall, she was the largest passenger steamship in the world. How can you just lose something _that_ big? Naw, she's down there, in one piece like a sunken submarine I bet. One big ol' hole on the starboard side. Maybe one day, _I'll_ find it."

"Yeah, just give me a call when you do." I laughed.

Steve gave me a ride home after school, dropping me off before heading to work. I started my homework, managing to get it done before Two-Bit came over.

"Homework? Really? What nutty teacher's giving out homework, Ponyboy?" He asked as I was putting my books away.

"Math. Always math. I had some chemistry work to, but I already finished it. Ain't you got homework, or have you given up passing for this year?"

"Now don't get snippy, Ponyboy. I'm gonna pass. I think it'll surprise my Ma to no end." He was grinning, thinking about it.

I looked at the clock and headed to the kitchen, putting some rice on to boil, found two cans of stew in the cabinet and a can of green beans. Tossing everything into separate pots to simmer in, I finished the morning dishes and cleaned up. Two-Bit sitting perched on a counter watching me the whole time.

"You know, that was pretty sneaky of you, working behind everyone's back like that. I wonder how long you'd have gotten away with it if Muscles hadn't caught you in the act?"

I'd thought about it too. "I don't think much longer. Darry'd already frozen his checking account. The woman at the electric company had identified me. I might have come up with some plausible explanation as to where the money had come from, but what would I say the next time? I hate lying to him – not that I _did_ lie, I just didn't exactly tell everything."

The stew was boiling so I turned it off, pouring it in a serving bowl. Beans too, into a separate bowl. The rice took the longest. When it was done, I headed off to take a shower, dress in my good jeans and a decent shirt. I had my suit in my bag already, along with the sheet music I was going to need.

"Ready, Two-Bit?" I asked as I stood by the door. He'd flipped off the TV and gave me a one sided grin.

"Ponyboy Curtis! Well, I don't know what any other grease's plans for the evening are, but I at least get a rare treat."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he said with a smirk as he turned me out my own door, shutting it behind him. "I get to hear you play the piano for free."

"You can't just go in and hang out, Two-Bit." I reminded him.

"Well, kiddo, I sure ain't sitting in ol'e Bessie for three hours freezing my ass off. Nope, I'm gonna sit at the bar and find something to order. Nothing with alcohol in it either."

I looked at him in disbelief.

"I promise, no alcohol and I won't make no trouble, really!"

I closed the door and inwardly shook my head. Two-Bit, sit at a bar and _not_ have booze? Oh, Soda... when are you going back to work?

XXX

The first snow was falling, cars sliding everywhere on their balding tires. It gave Steve a whole bunch of overtime and I was itching to join him. I still had another week before the doc would release me, and I couldn't wait. We needed the money, bad.

Between Darry's pay and Pony's tips, we were managing. Everything got paid - _late_, but it was paid. That's what mattered.

"You gonna let him work after I go back?" I asked one night when Darry'd come in early and collapsed on the couch.

"Doubt it," was his tired answer, given with closed eyes. I should have expect that to be his answer, but now wasn't the time to discuss it. Sleeping giants don't speak, they growl.

Another few days passed when it was Pony who came in first, looking just as worn out.

"Hard day?" I teased. It was rare that I got to give him the lines he usually fed me.

"Two tests – chemistry and geography. There were a few questions I flat out didn't know, and others I couldn't make up my mind on the answers to. They've been running through my head all day. Darry'll have a cow when my grades come back."

"You'll do fine, kiddo. It's nearly Christmas, relax." He stared off into the fireplace, his thoughts seemingly far away.

"Don't feel like it," he said, collapsing into the couch next to me.

I looked around and he was right. Mom always had the place done up somehow. A little here, a little there. Since they'd died, Pony was the one who did the bulk of the decorating. I guess this year, his free time was used up at that restaurant.

"C'mon." He glanced at me with a questioning look, but followed me anyway. Down in the corner of the basement, I dragged out the beat up Christmas tree we'd used last year. Darry'd found it on sale, and it just made sense to buy a fake one we could use year after year instead of a live one that cost a lot of money and left pine needles and sap all over the place.

"Now?" Pony asked, his face scrunched up in disbelief. It was past eleven at night after all.

"Sure, why not?"

I hauled the tree, he grabbed the box of ornaments. By the time Darry came in just past midnight, the tree was up, ready for decorating. I had a Tennessee Ernie Ford Christmas record playing on the record player to help lift the mood.

"What are you two blockheads doing?" Darry asked when he came in, snow dusting his shoulders as he stared at us, dumbfounded.

Pony had started unwrapping ornaments from their old newspaper shrouds, laying them out to put on the tree.

"It's after Thanksgiving, Darry. You know the rules," I started as Pony chimed in, repeating Mom's old mantra for when we can start decorating. _"Wait until after Thanksgiving, then it's all yours!" _He laughed a little and I smiled. Memories didn't always have to hurt. Even Darry caved.

"Fine, I guess so. But, no lights. Not this year."

Pony and I looked at him, a little shocked and confused. No lights on the tree? Then I understood. The strings of lights sucked up a lot of juice, and we were barely meeting the bill now as it was. "Sure Darry, it'll still be good. Right, Pone?" I nudged his shoulder. He nodded, his expression less happy than it had been a few moments ago, but with the Christmas twinkle still in his eye.

We stayed up late that night, decorating the tree. When it was done, it looked good. It wasn't the same, really missing the glow of the greens, reds, blues and yellows; but it was still comforting. Afterwards, Darry tossed another log on the fire while Pony lay in the recliner and I hunkered down on the couch to sleep.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N - This chapter and the following one (also the last chapter in the story) were written well over a month ago. So, happy belated Thanksgiving to all. Calla


	42. The Final Leaf of Autumn

A/N I always place my disclaimer at the start of my stories. Buuuutttttt, since you insist - SE Hinton owns The Outsiders.

**Autumn Leaves**

Chapter 42

**The Final Leaf of Autumn**

XXX

Once I'd told them, it was like the weight was off and the pressure was gone. The days passed in a smoother flow. School, home, homework, dinner, then out to Rosewood's compliments of rides from the guys. No more hiding out at the library, no more running to catch various buses. I could enjoy life again - well, sort of.

Someone was willing to take me each day, and while no one was ever well dressed, they all were dressed well enough. Two-Bit hung out at the bar, flirting with Cynthia, one of the more friendlier waitresses with a broad smile. Steve usually stayed over by the kitchen, out of the way and in the shadows. Soda, when he came, also sat at the bar, but seemed to ignore everyone; simply listening to me play. Darry never could make it, always working.

It embarrassed me some - I didn't think I was worth all the attention, but the tips got better every night. I would have thought Mr. Brock would have been upset with my sudden entourage, but he relented to their presence since Darry had popped in to formally introduce himself as my guardian and made it clear that if I was going to continue playing, I would have at least one of my "family" present, seeing as how I was a minor. Besides, each of them usually bought something small and cheap off the menu while waiting around, and none of them bothered anyone else - except for Cynthia, and she didn't seem to mind in the least.

XXX

It was late. Very late. With the Christmas holiday just over a week away, warehouse inventory was up as everyone was sending packages everywhere. I was surprised to discover how many faucets, light fixtures and cabinets were given as gifts - as I'd never heard of that before. Had to be a "rich" thing. The money here was great, but my hours were killing me. Seems I got home only with enough time to eyeball my brothers, strip, and lay down on one side of my bed - only to roll over to the other side and get up for a new day again.

I closed the door, noticing Pony asleep in the recliner curled up like a cat - while across the room, Soda lay stretched out over the couch. Pony's money was helping to keep us afloat, but I still hadn't been able to bump up the heat at night. In the corner, the Christmas tree – even with all our old heirloom ornaments dangling from its limbs, still seemed incomplete without the lights. It was bad enough winter would forever be the season that took our parents, now _this_ Christmas would be marked by a cold house, very few if any presents and rationing just to get by. I tossed in another two logs on the dying fire, watching for a moment as the flames licked at the new pieces of dried wood.

"How was your night?" Pony's quiet voice broke the stillness. I turned to look at him. He lifted his head only a little, opening his green eyes to see me.

"I didn't know you were awake. Long - to answer your question. It's okay. This was your last night at the restaurant, right?"

His shoulders moved. I guess he shrugged. "Yeah. He wants me to come back though. Offered me a raise even. Seems their revenue has gone up since I started. I really don't think it's me, but he didn't care. I can still play - he said I can come back if I change my mind. That is, if you'll let me. At least through Christmas break."

Not _this_ argument again. Soda was going back to work tomorrow, there was no need to send Pony out to work too. I shook my head in a silent, tired protest. "I already told you, there's no need in you working away your life. Let me handle the bills."

"I just want to help. I ain't working away my life, and besides, it _ain't_ work. What _you _do is work, same with Soda. All I do is tinker on the keys for a while. And it would be better if we had more cash put away."

"It's my turn, Pony." Soda mumbled without opening his eyes. "You've done more than either of us could ask for, now let it go."

"But I..."

My head fought with my heart; he was so eager to help. And he had a point, he wasn't laboring away at anything hard. And... with school soon to be out for Christmas, it wasn't like his school work would suffer. And he_ did_ deserve to have some spending money – I certainly wouldn't have any to give him. I went over to him, tucking the blankets higher on his shoulder where it had fallen some.

"I'm proud of you, Ponyboy." I said, cutting him off. "And if you want to go in a few times more, then fine, we'll work something out. But not the schedule you've had – and I won't say for definite anything else tonight. I'm too tired to think anymore on it. Now that's all I'm gonna give ya. It's late, we're all tired, and it's time for sleep. Now_ goodnight_, little buddy." I stood up, glancing at Soda - who still hadn't opened his eyes. In private, he and I had gone over this a few times already. He had a slight curl to his lips and I knew what he was thinking without him saying a word.... _"sucker!_" I groaned and headed to my room.

XXX

"So what are you gonna do over the break?" Tony asked as I shoved my book in my bag.

"Dunno yet. You?"

"Grandma's, _again_. Yay."

His expression said "torture." I didn't get it.

"Pinched cheeks and personal questions! I'm almost sixteen for cripes sake! I don't ask her when she last shaved her legs, why's she gotta know when I last shaved my face! Honestly!" Obviously going to his grandparents place was the last place he'd want to be. Wish I had that problem.

"They ain't gonna be with you forever, T... just remember that." I reminded him as I slid on my jacket. While a lot of the people in my classes knew about my parents being dead, he was one of the few who actually understood and seemed to care. He blinked hard - remembering my own unique situation, grabbed his bag and walked with me out into the hallway.

"Sorry, Ponyboy."

I shrugged. "It's fine." We parted at the stairs, him going up and me going down. Two classes later and I headed off into the cold air, a few snowflakes flittering around. It wouldn't stick. Not yet. Time was running out, Darry'd never let me go if it was snowing. His truck tires weren't the best and he'd never chance that trip in snowy weather.

XXX

"Hey, music man. Ready to go?" Two-Bit was grinning. Ever since Cynthia and him went out, he'd been all to eager to be the one to take me to Rosewood's. I finished dinner, heaped foil over it and left it in the oven to stay warm. Soda was due home in an hour and Darry would get in eventually. At least they'd have something hot to eat once they got here.

I grabbed my suit and nodded. I'd told Mr. Brock I could work a few more nights, to which he seemed pleased about. This wasn't going to last much longer though. I still had one other thing I wanted to do over Christmas.

"You seem quiet, kid. Whassup?" Two-Bit asked with a jab to my arm.

"Hey, I gotta use that arm to play!" I said, rubbing the sore spot.

"Ohhh ho ho!" he said teasingly. When I didn't take the bait, he looked at me harder. "Ponyboy? What gives?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to convince Darry to let me go to Hollis for a day or two. Mrs. Nixon gave me an open invitation anytime I want, and I _do_ have a horse to care of. Any ideas?"

He grinned. "Man, that senorita's got a hold on you, ain't she?"

"Two-Bit...!" I said menacingly.

"Hey, now c'mon kid. We all see how much you like her. Just admit to it!"

"Fine," I said, admitting the obvious. "I like her. What's wrong with that?"

Two-Bit smiled. "Never said nothing was wrong with it. Have you asked him to let you go?"

"No."

"Well,_ ask_ him. He might surprise you and say yes!"

He pulled into the restaurant and ran a comb through his hair before getting out. I wondered if Cynthia was somewhere inside checking herself out in a mirror too.

XXX

I heard a car door close and a minute later, Pony came in, still wearing his get-up. He looked tired as he sank into the chair.

"How'd it go?" Soda asked him as I moved my piece over his. "King me," I laughed in response to Soda's groan.

Pony looked over, heaved himself out of the chair to cross the room to us, pulled several rumpled bills from his pocket and let them fall over the checker board, yawning. "Eighteen dollars," he replied as he collapsed into the dining room chair next to me. I looked at it, the single five dollar bill poking out from all those ones. I was shocked!

"In one night? Wow, that's pretty good Pony. How...?"

He garbled out his answer, cutting Soda off. "The waitresses had a bet with the bartenders that I couldn't play Handel's Hallelujah. They lost."

"You made it through Handel?" I asked, surprised. That was a complicated piece, even for him.

"Yep."

"Where's Two-Bit?" Soda asked, looking around. "I gotta hear this from him!"

"Off on a date with Cynthia. I _don't_ expect him back tonight." Pony said wearily, getting up.

"You okay?"

He nodded, started to walk away then turned to me. I put my piece back down and waited.

"Darry, I know you don't like exactly like it, but is there anyway I can go back to Hollis sometime over the holiday? Just for a day or so? Please?"

I noticed Soda's slight amusement, my own feeling about it quite the opposite. I scrubbed my face and looked at him, damn those sad little eyes.

"I'll think about it, but don't go packing your bag tonight. Now get to bed."

He nodded and went down the hallway. Soda picked up the rumbled dollars and smoothed them out, setting them off to the side closer to me.

"Let him go, Darry. Ain't like we can get him a real present for Christmas. Besides, you can't keep him from growing up. Mrs. Nixon will keep an eye on him."

"I'd feel better about it if one of us went with him." I said dryly.

"You don't trust Mrs. Nixon's chaperoning skills?" he teased.

"I don't trust Pony's sneaking abilities. I'm off Christmas eve and day, you?"

He shook his head. "I'm working a half day Christmas eve, off the 25th, and work the 26th. You working the 27th?"

I shook my head wordlessly. None of us worked that day. That day we all spent together.

"Look, I can take him the morning of the 30th and come back the evening of the 31st before it gets late, if that's okay with you."

Inside, I fought it. I won't like either of them on the roads that late. Snow's forecasted soon and the tires on the truck were getting bald. And I didn't like Ponyboy hanging around Linda when I knew deep in my gut he'd find some way to sneak off with her, trying to go beyond first base. Just the thought gave me ulcers. He's too young. She's too young. I wasn't paying attention, Soda jumped my pieces, winning.

"I don't know. Soda," I said, letting my pieces fall onto the board. "I just don't know."

XXX

School was out. Autumn was coming to an end. A few flurries had already swirled about in our area of Tulsa, making our neighborhood look like some strange snow globe - pretty snow falling over dirty streets. Nothing stuck, it just looked interesting for a while before melting away, the niceness erased away as if nature figured out her mistake - East Tulsa wasn't meant to have such finery.

Soda was back to work, his side permanently scarred from everything but let nothing get in his way. Steve too, the both of them rebelliously refusing to be stopped. Both managed to survive the blast that destroyed not just station 21, but heavily damaged the shop next to it too. Darry missed only a few days of work, turning at times into a robot on autopilot afterwards just to get through those days. The guys who started the fire in the first place were never caught, but I was certain they'd get their own, one day. It all catches up eventually.

And somehow,_ somehow_, I managed to hide my working from everyone – until one small mistake after another left enough clues for them to figure it out. But Darry'd let me help, finally let me lend a hand to help get us through. I was glad he did, we are a _family_, each doing what we can, when we can, to get by. We_ have_ to, we're all we have left. Me and Soda and Darry, and the oddball best friends anyone could ask for.

So goodbye, Autumn. I shudder to think what winter brings.

XXX

Calla Lily Rose

A/N My thanks to all the many readers who gave this story a few moments of your time, the reviewers who thought enough of it to pass on a word or two (or even a beloved paragraph or two) in review; and the encouragement from everyone when the story seemed to falter.

Special thanks to Feisty Feist who gave me the many pick-me-ups when things looked bleak (even if you didn't know it), to Dollfin who urged me on through PM's - (and yes, I am still considering doing more with Braided, just give me more time), whatcoloristhesky and madamadadanechibisuke, who piped in just when I needed it the most.

And there are many, many more of you. Looking over my reviews makes my heart swell with pride and in humbled honor, to know someone out there likes my work. Thank you. See you next season.

Calla Lily Rose


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